The Stranger in Middle Earth
by JJAndrews
Summary: Book One. John Harris is a faithful servant of the House of York. After the Battle of Bosworth he and his family were journeying home when he was pulled into a war greater than any ever fought in England. He must fight in defence of not only his new world but in defence of his old one and in defence of Christendom.
1. Prologue

The Stranger in Middle Earth

Prologue

Hello, welcome to my story. I am glad that you have decided to start reading this fic and I have also recently re-written some of the earlier chapters. I hope you'll like this and please review.


	2. Chapter 1 Through the Portal

The Strangers in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN: Hi there. Yep, your eyes don't deceive you. I have decided to re write the longest thing I've ever written. You see, I was unsatisfied with my first version as it had many problems and I feel that it could have been much better.**

 **So, here is the improved version of The Stranger in Middle Earth. There won't be any major plot changes, well, there will be a few minor ones but it will still be compatible with Strangers No More.**

Chapter One

Through the Portal

My name is John Harris. I was asked by our great king to write down this text to accompany other histories which have been written by others who saw those great events which transpired close to twenty years ago. This is my tale, of an outsider born in another world and brought here by some higher power. As I sit down at my table I look around my study and the clutter which I keep putting off cleaning up. Important documents litter my desk and are stacked up around the room. The whole room is a warm yellow from the fire place which keeps the study warm and the two candles on my desk. My ink well is full and five quills are on my desk next to it. Directly in front of me is the great leather bound book which I will use to write this text.

My tale begins in a country named England which exists in another world. The year was 1485AD in England, the precise date was August the twenty sixth of that year. I rode down a country road on my black war horse Julius with three others. We all had the same shade of black hair and all had a similar look. The oldest of our group was my uncle, James Harris. He was seventy seven, with hair longer than mine which was streaked with gray. He was also a little shorter than me but he was still a formidable fighter and tactician; he had served as a part of the War Council of King Richard. The next oldest was my cousin Markus. He was twenty eight and had had neatly combed hair. He was the most intelligent of my family but was never snooty about it. Instead my uncle, Markus' father, would often seek his advice. He was also the son and heir of his father's land and wealth. Then there was Rickard, Markus' younger brother by one year but he and I were the same age. His hair was sheared almost completely off, almost making him bald, and he had a fair amount of stubble covering his face. Each of us had a large sack on our backs which held our armour.

'Cheer up father,' said Rickard. 'You couldn't have known what Tudor would do.'

'I know Rickard. I know. I'm more annoyed at the humiliation they subjected King Richard's body to.'

'They call themselves noble,' I scoffed at our enemies. 'They spread lies about our King and they have overthrown him.'

'What will we do?' asked Markus.

'We get home and do all we can to be loyal to the new king,' my uncle answered him. 'Then the next time the House of York rises we'll be there to fight.'

'You never forgave them did you?' I asked him.

'The Lancastrians? Never. What they did to your father will pain me forever.'

None of us said a word. I never meant to provoke him with the memories of Tewksbury. We rode on in silence for a while but our eyes were fixed on the land around us. Eventually the road took us through a wood so we went down it and I found my hand drifting towards my sword, Alaric, more often than I would have liked.

 _THWAK_

An arrow flew straight past my head and I drew my sword as a group of outlaws, armed with spears and bows, charged out of the trees at us.

'Christ!' Rickard shouted as he drew his falchion and swung down at an outlaw who got too close cleaving his head open.

'We have to go!' my uncle yelled and kicked his horse into a gallop.

The three of us did the same and we were charging down the road to get away. Julius threw me up and down as we escaped the enemy. An arrow flew past my head almost hitting me. In our hurry to get away we didn't pay attention to the dark patch in the air in front of us. I paid it no mind, assuming it was just a cloud of dust of my vision going against me. We rode straight through it. If we hadn't, I can only imagine how our lives may have been different. I can only imagine why destiny determined that we should go through. Either way my life was about to change forever.

When I rode through the patch of dark I and my horse were thrown into a swirling vortex of blue light. It was a tunnel that blasted me with freezing and boiling winds scolding me and cooking me alive. Julius screamed in panic but I could barely hear him. I clamped my eyes tight shut to not be blinded by the light.

Then it ended. Normal air touched my skin and I felt myself being thrown through the air. My eyes opened and I saw the cloudy sky as I crashed into the ground and my vision darkened.

...

Groggily my eyes opened and I had to snap them shut again as the sun smashed into them. I rolled over and shielded my eyes as I tried to open them again. This time I saw a large blur which I cleared after rubbing my eyes. This time I could clearly see rolling grass hills covered by boulders and the occasional rocky outcrop. Something prodded my back and I turned over to see Julius. He was prodding me with his hoof to try and wake me up.

'I'm alive,' I assured him. 'Everything's fine I promise you.'

Shakily I stood up and, after spending a moment getting my balance, I stepped up to my horse and patted him on his neck. Inspecting Julius I saw that he wasn't hurt but he had thrown a shoe. It wasn't too bad though; it wouldn't kill him. Surprisingly I had only suffered a few bruises which were nothing compared to some of my injuries like a large scar I sustained in a jousting accident. After a quick check of my supplies I saw that I still had my weapons and armour, all intact, and I had a little food. All I had to do was find a town and my family. I was sure it wouldn't be too hard. After I climbed onto Julius I looked around me as I tried to figure out where I was. Not too far away there were mountains, maybe a day's ride away, but it didn't look like anywhere near the place I had been. After a few moments I decided to head north.

After riding for just over an hour I had found nothing, no rode, no trail, no camp site and certainly no town.

'We're in trouble,' I muttered to Julius before taking a bite out of the small piece of bread I had and then put it back into a pouch at my belt.

Then I noticed something. It was just a faint something in the air but it was there. Smoke. Looking around me in every direction I saw some smoke rising into the sky, a little more than a mile away. My first thought was a campfire but I saw that there was too much smoke for that. I kicked Julius into a canter and we hurried towards the smoke. It didn't take long for me to reach it and, I found that my darkest suspicion had been confirmed. What was once a village had been devastated. Close to every house and barn had been set on fire, bodies littered the paths and bloodied weapons were still in their hands. The soldiers who had defended the village had met the worst fate, their heads had been cut off and stuck on spikes and their eyes had been gouged out. As Julius and I rode through the ruins I shook my head in disgust before dismounting near a large building that had once been a tavern. I needed answers and the tavern seemed like a good place to start. I took off my cloak, put on my mail shirt, as I didn't have the time to put on my plate armour, and drew my sword. The inside of the tavern was the same as the outside, devastated. The body of a young man was on the counter, his entrails had been torn out and cast across the room while two more headless bodies of soldiers were against the wall.

'Hello?' I cautiously asked, hoping that I'd find someone left alive.

A weak groan came from behind the counter and I rushed there to find a young woman who was bleeding badly through her chest, staining the front of her dress red.

'Christ,' I hissed and looked for something to help her with. There was towel on the counter that didn't look very dirty so I pressed it against the wound to halt the blood flow.

'The Wild Men,' she grunted. 'They killed everyone.'

'Don't talk,' I instructed her. 'Keep calm.'

'Go to Edoras,' she whimpered. 'Tell the King what happened.'

Just after she said that a cough tore through her body and blood trickled from her mouth. Her eyes went still and her head slumped forwards. I felt for a pulse even though I knew what had happened. She died. Out of respect I gently closed her eye lids and silently prayed that God would welcome her to Heaven.

After searching a few buildings that weren't aflame I found no one alive, only death. However, I did manage to find some food, in the form of cheese, bread, fruit and some salted mutton, as well as a bottle of mead. I also found a map that I expected would show me where I was in England, I suspected Cumbria or maybe Wales, but it instead showed me a land I had never seen before. I was in a place called Rohan apparently and the location of the village I was in, named Estras, was clearly marked, as was a place called Edoras. I suspected that if I wanted answers I would find them there. It would take at least two days to reach Edoras on Julius so I decided to waste no time.

On the early evening the next day I was riding as quickly as I could but I didn't want Julius to grow too tired. We had stopped at a small stream the night before so he could drink the water and I could get a few hours of sleep before we had to ride again. I had only stopped once and that was for a few moments when I ate. As the afternoon went on my thoughts turned to my cousins and uncle. I needed to know where they were and I thought about getting home to my uncles castle. So lost was I in the thoughts of home and good food that I almost didn't notice the scream that rang through the air. I halted Julius and listened. There it was again, a scream. It sounded like someone very young. Instantly I turned Julius to the source of the scream, it was on the other side of a hill, and sent my horse into a gallop. When I reached the top of my hill I saw a horse carrying two children, a girl and a boy, being chased by three warriors clad in furs and mail. Instinct took over so I drew my sword and sent Julius into a charge.

'Get to high ground!' I shouted at the children who did as I said.

I rode past the two of them and straight towards the three warriors. The first one I passed was not wearing a helmet so Alaric cleaved straight through his skull. The next foe was wearing a coat of plates and a conical helmet that managed to deflect my blow. The last one was armed with a massive axe and he stood his ground. He blocked my sword blow but he didn't expect Julius to attack him. My horse swung his massive hoof at the warrior's knee and broke it. When the warrior fell to the ground Julius finished him off with a stomp to the head.

'Coward!' a voice bellowed and I turned to see the heavily armoured warrior. 'You think you're better on that horse! I call you coward!' he then spat on the ground. 'Face me on your feet like a man!'

Normally I wouldn't have paid attention the taunts of an enemy but this time something compelled me to climb off of Julius and fight him on foot. I was armed with my sword, a war hammer that was on my belt and a poleaxe strapped to my saddle. He was armed with a massive cleaver and an axe was at his belt. Deciding to use Alaric and the hammer I got ready for the fight.

I stepped towards him, holding Alaric in both of my hands, and took in a deep breath. My foe charged me and swung his cleaver at my head. I ducked under it and side stepped my foe before swinging at him. He saw the blow coming though and pulled back so my sword only glanced off of his arm without breaking through the armour. He swung at me again and again but I dodged each blow. He swung again and this time I blocked it with my sword but I didn't anticipate the strength of his attack. My sword was thrown out of my hands and I almost stumbled to the ground but I steadied myself just in time. I had to end the fight there and then so I threw myself at the warrior, grappling him and knocking him to the ground. At last I unhooked my hammer, grabbed him around the neck and smashed my hammer into his face three times killing him. After taking a moment to wipe away the blood that had sprayed onto my face, I picked up my sword and walked back to Julius.

'Who are you?'

I turned around and saw the two children who had ridden back down towards me. It was the boy who asked the question.

'My name's John Harris,' I told him. 'I mean you no harm.'

'Why did you help us?' he asked me.

'Because I've seen enough innocents die. Why did they attack you?'

'They're Wild Men,' the girl answered me. 'It's what they do.'

'Wild Men,' I muttered. 'Where are you going?'

'Edoras,' the boy answered me. 'We have to get there to raise the alarm.'

I nodded my head at what they said.

'I'm going there as well. I'll make sure we'll get there safely.'

'How can I trust you?' the boy demanded, clearly he wasn't a fool.

In a response I reached around my neck and pulled out my crucifix on a chain. The boy looked at it indifferently.

'I swear in the name of Jesus Christ that I mean you two no harm.' The boy and girl shared a glance with each other. It looked to me as if they didn't know what I was taking about but it was apparently good enough for them. 'What are your names?'

'Eothain,' the boy answered me. 'This is my sister, Freda.'

'Then let's get going,' I said and we went back onto our journey to Edoras.

We rode through the night and into the following morning. The young children didn't say much but I could tell that they were growing weary. I gave them some of my food to keep them going and they accepted it happily. The morning after I had met them we at long last came to Edoras and I was surprised by what I found. Instead of a large walled city Edoras looked more like a large town with wooden walls and buildings. It was built on a tall hill and on the top of the hill was a hall. As I studied it I was reminded of the architecture of those who lived in England centuries ago that I learned about from my tutors when I was a child. Near the town I could see some burial mounds and standing by one of them were two men, one dressed in white robes and clutching a white staff. It didn't take long for this man to notice us, just as Eothain fell from his horse. As quickly as I could I picked him up and prayed that he was alright.  
'What happened?'  
I looked up from Eothain and saw the two men who had now ran over to us. The one who spoke was the man in white who I now realised was incredibly old.  
'The Orc's,' Freda started, 'are coming to kill us.'


	3. Chapter 2 The Wizards Words

The Strangers in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Two

The Wizards Words

I sat in a corner of the Golden Hall of Edoras cleaning my sword while Eothain and Freda spoke with a young woman named Eowyn, the niece of King Theoden. The Golden Hall appeared to be the centre of Rohans leadership. The room we were in was the main hall where meetings were carried out and the king gave audiences. Sitting at the head of the hall on an ornately carved throne was King Theoden. Sitting next to him was the old man in white robes whose name was Gandalf. He appeared to be some sort of advisor and he slightly reminded me of the wizard Merlin who I had heard about in stories when I was a boy. Also in the hall were soldiers and a few others who I wasn't sure what their purpose was including a short man with a massive beard and a tall blonde man who had pointed ears. I had noticed that they looked at me with something that resembled either recognition or confusion. The King listened to the two children as they told him of their home village being burned to the ground by Orc's and wild men. Their mother had said that she'd meet them at Edoras but there was no sign of her. I looked at the floor and shook my head. It was more than likely she was dead.

'They had no warning,' Eowyn said to her uncle. 'They were un armed. Now the Wild Men are moving through the West Fold burning as they go. Rick, cot and tree.'

'There is still something I do not know,' Theoden said and looked at me. 'What part do you play in this?'

I put my sword back in its sheath and stood up. While the two children had been explaining what happened to them I had planned my own story. I didn't know what was happening so I decided to create a story of my own.

'I was lost,' I explained. 'When I saw what had happened to a village I decided to come here to find out what was happening.'

'I don't think questioning John Harris will accomplish much,' Gandalf said to the king. 'We have now seen a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. All the more potent for he is driven now by fear of Sauron.'

I didn't know who or what they were talking about. I remained silent and kept my face impassive, a skill I had learned at the feasts at my uncles castle when I had to be polite to guests.

'Ride out and meet him head on,' Gandalf advised the king. 'Draw him away from your women and children. You must might.'

'You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak,' a man who was smoking a pipe reminded Theoden. 'Eomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king.'

'They will be three hundred leagues from here by now,' Theoden said and stood up from his throne. 'Eomer cannot help us. I know what it is you want from me but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war.'

'Open war is upon you,' the man with the pipe told Theoden with remarkable confidence, 'whether you would risk it or not.'

All eyes turned towards that man in surprise at his boldness for essentially telling a king he was wrong. I know I wouldn't have dared to do that.

'When last I looked,' Theoden said in a way which emphasised his authority, 'Theoden, not Aragorn was King of Rohan.'

'Then what is the king's decision?' asked Gandalf.

After a few moments of thought Theoden made up his mind.

'Hama,' he said to one of his soldiers, 'tomorrow morn announce that the city will empty and we shall go the Helm's Deep.'

'Yes Theoden King,' the man named Hama answered, bowed and then left the hall.

'Gandalf, as you ride Shadowfax I ask you to find Eomer.'

'Of course I will,' the old man answered.

'John Harris,' Theoden said and looked at me, 'I take it that you are a soldier.'

'I'm a knight,' I clarified.

'Then I may have need of your sword. We'll pay you for troubles.'

'I'm not a mercenary,' I said quickly. 'I'll be happy to help though after what does animals did.'

'Thank you,' the king said and turned to his servants. 'Prepare rooms for our guests.'

He then left the main hall to work on the plans for leaving while I was left thinking. In all my life I had never heard of a land named Rohan or a place named Helm's Deep. Something was very wrong.

'John,' said Gandalf, who I somehow didn't notice had approached me, 'may I have a word?'

'Of course My Lord,' I responded.

I followed Gandalf through the main doors and out into the cool night air. The stars were partly covered by clouds but the few that were visible were shining brightly. The city was silent except the sounds of singing and shouting coming from an inn.

'Now tell me John, how long has it been since you came through the portal?'

Obviously I was taken aback by the question. How did he know about that?

'How did you know I came through a portal?' I asked him; slowly I started to think that he was a wizard.

'Several months ago an elven lady named Galadriel foresaw that portals would open from here to another world,' he explained.

'Another world?' I asked him. 'You mean, this isn't the world I was born and raised on?'

'No. Can you think of another explanation? This land has no name you know and the mountains and forests and rivers are not any you remember. Trust me John, you are not the first man I have met that has travelled between worlds.'

'There was another?' I asked him.

'There have been others yes. The last time this happened was some sixty years ago.'

'Is there a way back?' I asked him.

'No. The portals are a very rare event and I'm surprised they have happened twice in a man's lifetime.'

I thought about my cousins and uncle. We had been riding the same direction towards the portal. When I told Gandalf about that her nodded.

'If they came through the portal as well then they are bound to have come this world. And I doubt it will just be your family.'

'What do you mean?'

'Galadriel predicted that there would be more than one portal. I think it is likely that more than just you and your family came through.'

'I see,' I murmured as I tried to take all of this in. I had more or less volunteered to fight in a war that I really had no need to be in and this man was claiming that I was in another world. I tried to think of every possible explanation, a Lancastrian trick. Unlikely. Maybe these people were all insane. No, they all appeared sound of mind. Maybe I was dreaming. That was possible. 'Can you tell me what Helms Deep is?'

'Helm's Deep is the greatest fortress of Rohan. No attacker has ever breached its walls.'

'Good. A strong defence is always a good idea.'

'Excuse me,' Gandalf and I turned and saw one of the servants behind us. 'Lady Eowyn asked me to show you to your room Lord John.'

'Oh thank you,' I said to her. 'I'm no Lord,' I added. 'I'm just a knight.'

'John,' Gandalf said to me before I went back inside, 'you will do great things in this world. Believe in yourself and you will accomplish wonders.'

'I'll keep that in mind,' I said to him and then went inside.

She showed me to a small but comfortable room with a bed, desk and small wardrobe. I immediately got ready for bed not knowing that a great adventure awaited me.

...

Review responses:

TimC34: I hope you enjoyed this one as well.

KiyaJinnskywalkerKenobie (Damn that's a mouthful): It took me a while to figure out what Gandalf would say to John. I hope you think I did it well.


	4. Chapter 3 The Journey to Helms Deep

The Strangers in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Three

The Journey to Helms Deep

I stood outside the Golden Hall, where Gandalf and I spoke to each other the night before, on the morning of the evacuation. I was wearing the clothes I arrived in, including my mail armour, just in case. My armour was still in my pack, apart from the mail shirt. Hundreds of people were hurrying to pack up their provisions while soldiers were trying to organize the evacuation. I watched it all with a strange feeling. I didn't belong here and I had nothing to gain by fighting with them. But then I remembered that I did have a reason. By His will God sent me here to do something and God knew what I was best at; fighting. I had been trained since I was a boy to fight. The doors behind me opened and I turned around to see Gandalf leaving the Golden Hall with three others. I had learned all of their names by now. The man Aragorn, an Elf with blonde hair named Legolas and a Dwarf named Gimli.

'John,' Gandalf said to me, 'a word.'

'Yes My Lord,' I respectfully addressed him.

'Don't bother calling me Lord. Just call me Gandalf, everyone does. John, I have told these three and King Theoden about who you are and where you come from. For now I feel that it would be best if you didn't tell anyone else.'

'Very well,' I agreed with him. 'Is there anything more I should know?'

'Yes. As I told you last night others from your world may have come through as well. In fact, I am sure that others have come through. If you encounter any others I want you to make sure they stand with us not with darkness.'

'But My Lor-but Gandalf I'm not even sure who the enemy is. Why are they attacking Rohan? What do they want?'

'It's a long tale,' Gandalf informed me.

'Then can I be told the short version?'

Gandalf sighed at me, it was clear that he had a lot to do that day. 'In brief, there is a land named Mordor ruled by the Dark Lord Sauron. Sauron wants to rule all of Middle Earth and has gained the support of a wizard named Saruman of Isengard. It is Saruman's forces which attack Rohan but after that we may have to face the even larger armies of Mordor itself.'

'What will happen if he conquers Middle Earth?'

'All that is good will perish and all light will fall into shadow.'  
I took a moment to think this over. Even if I chose not to fight I would still have to fight Sauron and Saruman.

'I take it that we are outnumbered,' I asked Gandalf.

'Yes.'

'Well, frankly it all sounds hopeless but I'd rather die fighting on my feet than running from an evil maniac. I'll do what I can to help.'

I stood outside the hall and watched Gandalf on a white horse riding into the distance as fast as he could. It was then I decided to get Julius ready for the journey. I went to the stables where I found him drinking from a trough.

'Long journey ahead of us,' I said to him as I strapped his saddle onto him and put on his reigns. 'It looks like we're in another mess again,' I told him and patted his snout to which he grunted something.

I led Julius out of the stables and down towards the gates where I expected many of the people of Edoras were waiting to get going. It wasn't long after I arrived at the gates that King Theoden arrived. With an order the guards opened the gates and the people of Edoras left their city behind.

The next day the column went on and on as midday turned into afternoon. I had volunteered to help scout the way ahead in case of any trouble. I was riding on Julius about a hundred and fifty yards ahead of the column amongst a group of rocky outcrops. So far I had found nothing but I was on edge. It was a new world and I didn't know what to expect.

'John,' I spun around and saw Legolas standing on top of the rocks nearby.

'Are you trying to shock me to death?' I asked him.

'No. I just wanted to let you know that I'm taking over your post for now.'

'Thank you,' I said and then started to ride back to the column.

It didn't take me long and after reporting to Theoden that there was no sign of an enemy ahead of us I found myself riding alongside Aragorn. He didn't talk very much, by the look of him I'd say he was someone who was often outdoors and probably by himself a lot. By the time the sun started to set the column had been ordered to stop for the night. Soon camp fires were being started all along the column as the people began to prepare their rations. I sat down next to Aragorn as we got the fire going. Soon the Kings niece Eowyn had walked over to us carrying a cauldron of stew.

'I made some stew,' she stated, seeming a little nervous around Aragorn. 'It isn't much but it's hot.'

'Well I'm never one to turn down food,' I said and both Aragorn and I held out our bowls which I instantly regretted when I saw the stew.  
She poured some of it in and I let Aragorn try it first, Eowyn appeared to be more interested in what he thought of it more than I. After a moment's hesitation he nodded his approval and said,

'It's good,' very quietly as though something was blocking his throat.

'Really?' she asked, sounding a little relieved but at the same time happy.

She started to walk away and when her back was turned Aragorn began pouring the contents of the bowl onto the ground near him just as Eowyn turned to look at us again. Realizing this, and not wanting to offend the lady, he quickly stopped what he was doing and accidently splashed some of the stew onto his hand.

'My uncle told me a strange thing,' she said. 'He said that you rode to war with Thengal, my grandfather but he must be mistaken.'

'King Theoden has a good memory. He was only a small child at the time.'

'What?' I asked. 'How old are you?'

'At least sixty,' said Eowyn as she crouched next to him and Aragorn shook his head slightly. 'Seventy?' he shook his head again. 'But you cannot be eighty!'

'Eighty seven,' Aragorn clarified and I almost dropped my bowl.

'What?'

Eowyn stood up and realization came to her face.

'You are one of the Dunedain. A descendent of Numenor blessed with long life. It was said that your race had passed into legend.'

'There are few of us left,' he told her and then with sorrow added, 'the northern kingdom was destroyed long ago.'

'I'm sorry,' Eowyn apologised, feeling some regret over apparently bringing sadness to him. 'Please eat.'

She stayed to watch as Aragorn and I both drank a little and both of us tried to keep it down. Fortunately she was gone quickly and Aragorn poured the remainder of the stew away as did I.

'Thank God she's not a cook,' I said to Aragorn.

'Agreed.'

'How long will it take for us to reach Helm's Deep?'

'Another two days at most,' he answered and I nodded. Then we were joined by Gimli.

'So you two lads fell victim to the ladies stew?'

'I'm afraid so.'

'I'm sorry and I'm glad I had the sense to avoid it.'

'We were just being polite Gimli,' I told him. 'Besides, I've tasted worse.'

'When?' they both asked me at the same time.

'When two of the cooks at my uncle's castle got drunk before cooking dinner. Have you ever wondered what half a barrel of salt on one roasted pheasant tastes like?'

'HA!' Gimli belted out. 'You know what John, when we're finished with this mess I'll take you to Erebor where we never make mistakes with our feasts.'

'I'd very much like to try one of them.'

'You've never seen a real feast until you've tried a Dwarf feast,' Gimli proudly declared. 'Hundreds of roast birds, entire pigs lining the table, mountains of cheese, barrels of beer flowing like a river.'

'As long as there's meat I'll be there.'

'Trust me John,' Gimli said to me with certainty, 'you'll want to go to Erebor.'

'I'm sure I will,' I told him.

'So can you tell us a little about yourself?' Gimli asked me.

'Where would you like me to start?' I asked him.

'Family maybe,' Gimli suggested.

'Well,' I thought about it. 'I was brought up by my uncle James at his castle. My father Daniel was killed in a civil war when I was twelve at a place named Tewkesbury.'

'I'm sorry,' said Aragorn.

'Thank you. I have two cousins as well, Rickard and Markus. When we were boys we'd always be getting into trouble whenever Rickard came up with a mad idea and then Markus would come up with a way to get us out of trouble.'

'Sounds like you had a good life,' Gimli said although I thought he seemed unusually pained at learning that my father was dead, someone he never knew.

'I did. My family's had a long line of service you know. My grandfather fought in one of the greatest battles in my countries history. Agincourt.'

'Agincourt.' Gimli muttered. 'What's his name?'

'Bartholomew Harris. If you must know he unfortunately died there. It's a pity.'

'Aye it is,' Gimli said and I thought I saw a strange look in his eyes but I ignored it.

...

Two days later I had volunteered to scout again that morning. It gave me some time to be alone with my thoughts. I somehow had to explain to men from my world that they had been transported to another world filled with beings which only existed in children's stories. On top of that I had to convince them to fight in a war against a massive army led by a man who calls himself "Dark Lord". As I rode ahead of the column I came past an eight foot tall cliff wall. So far I had found nothing and I knew that another scout would be coming to relieve me soon. That was when I heard something. It sounded like a horse walking along rock and I realized that the sound was coming from the top of the cliff I was next to. Then I felt it. Sharp steel pressing against the back of my neck. It was a sword. I froze completely as did Julius but my hand drifted towards Alaric.

'You know, if I was an enemy your head would be gone by now,' a voice said from above me. With shock I realized I knew that voice.

'Rickard?' I asked, hardly daring to believe it.

'That's me John,' my cousin answered and took the blade away from my neck.  
I looked up and it was indeed him. He wore leather and mail armour apart from steel vambrace's while a black cloak waved and flapped in the wind around him. Hanging from his belt was the sheath for his falchion, a barbute helmet and a mace while strapped to his back was a heater shield.

'What were you doing you damned fool?' I almost shouted at him.

'Getting your attention,' he answered me. 'Although I must say I'm disappointed in you. Usually you're a hard one to sneak up on.'

'Well I was busy thinking.'

'About what?'

'Come down here and I'll tell you.'

'Alright, let me just get my horse.'

A few minutes later Rickard came from around the side of the cliff on his brown horse which he called Black Fire. Now I noticed that he also had a large sack like the one which I had and used to carry my armour.

'So what were you thinking about so hard that it put your life in danger?' he asked me with a slight grin.

'Well to answer that you'd have to ask me where we are first.'

'Alright, where are we?'

I paused before answering his question. This was going to be hard. I opened my mouth to answer when I heard a voice behind me snap,

'Who is he?'

Rickard and I both turned to face the voice and saw Legolas with an arrow notched into his bow.

'He's my cousin,' I quickly told Legolas before Rickard could say something stupid.

Legolas slowly lowered his bow and looked at Rickard in surprise and then looked at me.

'Have you told him?' he asked me.

'I was about to before you interrupted me.'

'I'm taking your place as scout. Take your cousin to the column.'

'No problem. If you get attacked shout for help.'

Rickard followed me to the column where I reported to King Theoden that there was no sign of an enemy and I also introduced Rickard as my cousin. After that we rode for a while and I explained to him where we were, what I've done and what was going on. When I was done he was silent for a moment until he finally found words.

'Blimey.'

'Wait. Is that all you can say? Blimey?'

'Well you just told me that we're in another world filled with magic, elves, dwarfs and monsters that will want to turn me into some type of meal and on top of that you're asking me to help fight in a war we'll probably loose. Blimey.'

'Will you help?'

Rickard was silent for a moment until he said,

'Why not? We'll need to find Markus and my father though.'

'Agreed. We'll find them no doubt.'

'Rickard, you're taking the news that we're no longer on Earth better than I did.'

'Well my outlook on life helps a lot. I just keep reminding myself that no matter how bad things are it could be a lot worse.'

'I suppose you're right.'

Then the column came to a stop as sounds of roaring and growling mixed with barking and shouting filled the air. A minute later I saw Aragorn running to the head of the column and gave us the news.

'Warg's! We're under attack!'

All of those in the column who weren't fighters screamed in panic. I didn't know what Warg's were but whatever they were I knew it wasn't good.

'All riders to the head of the column!' ordered Theoden.

'Sounds like a fight,' said Rickard as he strapped his helmet onto his head and then pulled down the visor which covered the lower half of the helmet leaving the eye slit open but the mouth section protected. 'Want to score kills again?'

'Alright,' I answered as I drew Alaric from his sheath. My helmet was still in my sack with the rest of my plate armour. My blade glinted in the sunlight as I took a practice swing at the air.

'Follow me!' Theoden ordered and he rode towards the battle with all of the other riders following him.

Rickard and I rode next to each other over a hill. The ground beneath me was a blur as Julius galloped forwards as fast as he could, kicking up patches of dirt and grass and throwing them behind us. The wind whipped past me and stung at my face. I felt excitement and nerves attacking me as they always did before a battle. Rickard was getting ahead of me and I commanded Julius to go faster. I wasn't going to let my cousin beat me in the kill count again. We came over the hill and I froze at the sight ahead of us. Dozens of giant wolf like creatures being ridden by foul creatures wielding long curved axes and swords; that was the first time I had ever seen an Orc or a Warg. Julius didn't stop. He kept going on and on towards the snarling, howling, barking monsters that sought only to kill us. As we neared them Theoden let out a cry which was echoed by all of us. Just before we crashed into them I yelled out as loud as I could,

'SAINT GEORGE!'

The battle began.  
Men were thrown from horses. Spears slammed into Orc's and Warg's felling them. Horses were torn to pieces by the jaws of Warg's. Men were stabbed and Orc's were shot. I rode past an Orc and with one quick slice I cut its head clean off.

'One!' I shouted at Rickard.

An Orc swung at me with an axe which I blocked with my sword and then I stabbed it through the chest. The mount was then killed by an arrow which was fired by Legolas. I rode through the battle and swiped down at an Orc on foot killing it. A Warg roared as it charged towards me and leapt up, trying to grab my head in its jaws. Before it could get me I sliced across is neck and then finished off its twitching body with a hack to the top of its head. The battle was chaotic. What started as a cavalry battle had transformed into a brawl with pairs of mounted soldiers battling each other while soldiers who had lost their mounts fought in a brutal battle on foot. I battled another Orc on a Warg. Its foul helmet was in the shape of a skull and in its eyes was only malice. It was armed with a spiked flail. The chain wrapped itself around the blade of Alaric and yanked my sword from my hand sending it flying through the air. It them raised its weapon to try and take another swing at me. I pulled my war hammer from my belt smashed its blunt head against the Orc's weapon hand and I felt bones break. The creature hissed in pain and I used the spike end of my hammer to break through its crude iron helmet and crack open its skull. The creature fell dead and I killed the Warg with three hammer blows to its neck and skull. I scanned the ground for Alaric and saw it. It had landed with the blade in the ground and the handle in the air not far away. I put my hammer back on my belt and galloped towards my sword yanking it out of the ground as I went past it. I then engaged another Orc on a Warg. This one was armed with a sword and possessed greater skill than the other Orc's I had battled. It swung at me three times and I blocked each blow. Then I swung at it but it blocked my blow and swung at me high, managing to cut me along my right cheek. I felt blood rush out of my wound and I ignored the pain. I swung at it three more times until it failed to block one and I sliced off the demons sword hand. Then I impaled it through the chest and hacked the Warg in the back killing it. Quickly I rode on to another enemy. With a swing I hacked off the arm of an Orc and then I killed an Orc on foot. My sword arm ached and sweat was thick on my brow. Black blood covered my blade and arm. I was growing tired in the battle. That's when I saw three Orc's on Warg's riding away from the battle. I looked around me and saw others were retreating. The enemy was running. We'd won. I let a smile creep onto my face and slid Alaric back into his sheath. I then took another look around me and saw what I never wanted to see. Our own dead. Slain men and horses littered the battlefield and injured men were crying out in pain. I climbed off Julius and walked where we had fought our battle.

'Aragorn?' I heard Legolas shout.

Where was Aragorn? I couldn't see him.

'Aragorn? Gimli echoed the Elf.

I found them both by an Orc just as it said,

'Took a little tumble off the cliff.'

'You lie,' Legolas hissed in anger just as the Orc died.

Then he saw something. In the Orc's hand was a white jewel. I remembered seeing Aragorn wearing it. I quickly ran to the nearby cliff where I saw Theoden standing and I looked down into a roaring river. I shook my head. Aragorn dead. I didn't know him well at the time but I could tell that he was a good man. An honourable man. Gamling, one of the Royal Guards of Rohan then appeared ready to receive Theoden's orders.

'Get the wounded on horses,' the King commanded. 'The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead.'

Legolas looked at him with angry, shocked and pleading eyes and I chose that moment to walk away. I soon found Rickard standing next to his horse. He held his sword in his right hand and it was coated with black blood. There was a cut in his leather armour but the mail beneath was still intact.

'What was your score?' he asked me.

'Does that matter now? We've over half of our men.'

'Look John, don't get guilty over surviving. At least we can avenge them later.'

I was silent until Julius rode up to me slowly at nudged me with his nose.

'Eight,' I told Rickard.

'Eight,' my cousin said to me.

'Let's go,' I said as I climbed onto Julius.

Soon what was left of the battles survivors rode out towards Helm's Deep. Ahead of us was only more blood and more death.

AN: Well, what do you think? Longest chapter so far. I hope I did the battle well, after all we all loved the fight scenes in Lord of the Rings. I know this is a little late but funny story here. I had this chapter finished for last Thursday but I accidently deleted it so I've had to re write it. I'm an idiot!

Review responses:

Kiya: Thanks for your review. By the way I hate spoilers as well that's why when my friends talk about Game of Thrones I cover my ears. I hope you liked this chapter.

TMI Fairy: I know John Harris is accepting of his new surroundings but that's the way he is. He believes that things happen for a reason and that you can't get away from destiny, it's just better to get on with it.

Have a nice day.


	5. Chapter 4 Preparing for the storm

The Stranger in Middle Earth  
I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings  
Chapter four  
Preparing for the storm

AN-I've re written this chapter because I thought up a new scene after I had posted this originally. It doesn't completely change the plot but it would be better to read this one.

I was leaning against the battlements at Helm's Deep looking out over the land in front of the fortress. There was no cover there and a large army would have no room to move. In many ways it was the perfect place for a fortress. The building itself was designed in a very good way. There was a long twenty foot high wall, called the Deeping Wall, which men could stand on three ranks deep. Next to that was the Hornburg, the castles keep and gatehouse which was circular and offered perfect line of sight for archers along the battlements. The Hornburg was in two parts with an outer and inner wall with a round walkway between them. The two walls were connected together by a stone bridge. I was on the battlements of the Hornburg's outer wall. My poleaxe was resting against the wall next to me and my left hand was grasping the hilt of Alaric. I'd had my wound bandaged and seen to by the healers at the fortress. It wasn't a bad wound so I was sent on my way quickly, there were more badly wounded than me. After a few minutes by myself I heard someone walking up to me. I turned towards the person and saw Rickard there.

'Are you alright?' he asked me.

'More or less. Where have you been?'

'Taking a look around the place. Did you know there's a massive cave behind the fortress?'

'No I didn't. I'll take a look myself later.'

'You're feeling guilty aren't you?'

'What do I have to be guilty about?'

'Surviving. Remember what my father said once or twice?'

'He said a lot of things.'

'I know. Well, what I mean is when he talked about surviving Tewkesbury while your father didn't.'

'I remember. He said that he wished that he'd died and my father lived.'

'Then mother would tell him to shut up. You can always regret but you have to keep living.'

'I know. It's just. I wish that more of our men had lived.'

'If we had everything we wished than I'd be sitting in Rome right now drinking wine in a tavern for the rich with a few barmaids and a giant sack of gold.'

I looked at him for a moment.

'What?' he asked me.

'I've never been more happy that I couldn't see inside your mind.'

We both laughed for a moment until Rickard's gaze shifted towards two riders approaching the fortress.

'Who are they?' he asked me.

'A couple of stragglers maybe. Perhaps mercenaries looking for some quick money,' I listed off.

'Maybe. As they got closer and reached the causeway I noticed something.

'Impossible,' I said.

'What is it?'

'Come on!' I shouted at him and we ran down towards the courtyard in the heart of the Hornburg where a statue of a long dead King named Helm Hammerhand kept a constant vigil over his fortress. Moments after we arrived the two riders rode into the courtyard and I realized that I was right. One of them was Aragorn. He looked tires, battered, beaten but alive. The second was on a white horse. He was in his late sixties with greying black hair a little longer than mine, he was a little stocky but in good shape for a man his age, on his face was a layer of thick stubble. He carried a large dark brown sack and strapped across his back was a great sword. He climbed off of his horse and when he saw me and Rickard he allowed a small smile to creep onto his face.

'Father!' Rickard shouted.

'Uncle,' I said and the two of us ran towards him and hugged him.

After a few moments we let go of him and he looked at the two of us.

'I see you two have been getting into trouble again,' he said and gestured at the bandage on my face.

'Well, at least it's not a repeat of the armoury incident,' Rickard responded, his smile still plastered onto his face.

'James,' Aragorn said with urgency, 'let's go.'

'Alright,' he then said to Rickard and I, 'Come on you two.'

We followed Aragorn and Uncle James to the main hall. Legolas was there outside the hall and Aragorn got his jewel from him. I then noticed something. Lady Eowyn was looking at Aragorn with what I first thought was surprise but there was something else there. Something deeper. We then entered the hall and King Theoden was sitting on a throne while he consulted with several military officers. When he saw Aragorn he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. Quickly, Aragorn and my uncle walked forwards and both bowed.

'Theoden King,' Aragorn started, 'this is James Harris, John's uncle and Rickard's father. I met him on the way here and we encountered the army of Isengard which is marching on us as we speak.'

'He is right,' my uncle confirmed what Aragorn had said. 'It is one of the largest armies I have ever seen. It is a truly great host.'

'A great host you say?' asked Theoden.

'All Isengard is emptied.'

'How many?'

Everyone in the room was silent as we awaited the size of the enemy army but I knew it was bad. My Uncle had been there at Bosworth with us and at Tewkesbury before that so it would take a lot to unnerve him.

'Ten thousand strong at least,' Aragorn said at last.

'Ten thousand?' Theoden asked, shocked at how bad it was.

'Jesus Christ,' cursed Rickard.

'It is an army built for a single purpose,' Aragorn went on. 'To destroy the world of men. They will be here by nightfall.'  
Theoden was silent for a moment and closed his eyes to clear his thoughts. Then he opened them and with strength and charisma in each step he strode out of the hall towards the doors and said with strength, 'Let them come.'

We followed him out of the hall and to the gatehouse. There he ordered Gamling, who I guessed was Theoden's second in command, to make sure that every man and boy who could use a weapon was to be made ready for battle. He then lead us to the gate where some soldiers were strengthening them by nailing wooden planks to the gates. Eventually we stood just outside the gates on the causeway.

'We shall cover the causeway and the gates from above,' he instructed the Rohan officers. 'No man has ever breached the Deeping Wall, or set foot inside the Hornburg. Within these walls we will outlast them.'

'I hope the men behind these walls,' my uncle said to the king in a voice which was lowered so the Rohan soldiers wouldn't hear him, 'are as strong as the walls are. Otherwise we may not survive this battle.'

'Aye,' agreed Gimli who was standing close by. 'This is no band of mindless Orc's. These are Uruk-hai. Their armour is thick and their shields broad.'

'I have fought in many wars Master Dwarf and James Harris. I know how to defend my own keep.'

Theoden said to the Dwarf and my uncle before walking back into the fortress. As we went I said to my uncle,

'It's not all bad news, uncle. From what I've seen of them I doubt that the Uruk-hai have cannons.'  
(For those readers who do not know, a cannon is a metal tube which uses a black powder to propel metal projectiles over a long distance, several of which have been built for the defences of Minas Tirith)

'They'll have to deal with us hand to hand,' Rickard added with surprising enthusiasm and mimicked a few punches, 'and then we'll teach the Uruk-hai not to mess with Englishmen!'

'Even if we had a hundred knights it will be hard to win this battle,' my uncle stated but failed to deflate my cousins optimism.

'Well I'm sure we'll send a lot of them to Hell where they belong.'

'Then Hell will soon be overflowing with how many there are,' my uncle deadpanned. 'You haven't seen them yet. If you had you'd understand me.'

We had now reached the top of the inner wall of the Hornburg where Theoden was outlining what he believed would happen in the battle.

'They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn. We've seen it before. Crops can be re-sown. Homes rebuilt. Within these walls we will outlast them.'

'They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops and villages, they have come to destroy its people,' Aragorn almost shouted. I didn't blame him, I thought that perhaps Theoden didn't see how grave the situation was. 'Down to the last child.'

At this Theoden turned around and almost hissed at Aragorn. I couldn't hear what they were saying but I knew it was bad.

'John, Rickard,' my uncle said to us, 'come with me.'

I knew that tone in his voice. It meant that he was about to say something that he knew we didn't want to hear. We followed him to a part of the courtyard near the statue.

'Now listen to me,' he said loud enough for Rickard and I to hear but not anyone else. 'You know how bad the situation is. We don't have a hope in Hell of winning this battle.'

'But the code Uncle,' I quickly said. 'Defend the weak and defenceless.'

'John, I have always admired your loyalty to the code of Chivalry, it's a quality you share with your father, but like him you use it as a law. It's a **guide** to how a knight should live his life. We have no oath to this country and Aragorn explained to me where we are now. We have no loyalties here.'

'I do. I want to stay here and not run like a coward,' I said to him, I knew that would touch a nerve. He angrily slapped me across my face.

'Don't you dare call me a coward nephew,' he almost growled, appearing more like a bear than a man.

'Father,' Rickard slowly said to him, 'we should stay.'

'What?' he asked his son.

'These people have no chance I know but with us here we increase the chance of victory, not by much but it's better than nothing. I say we stay and fight.'

My uncle sighed and shook his head.

'I made a promise,' he simply said.

'To who?' I asked him.

'Two promises actually to two different people. To your father John, I promised him as he lay on the field dying, choking on his own blood, that I would make sure you lived in a family and not be left alone as we were when your grandfather died at Agincourt. Rickard, I promised your mother that I would not let you or your brother, get yourselves killed.'

'Uncle,' I said to him, my voice filled with finality, 'I'd rather die here than spend the rest of my life knowing that I ran away and let innocents be slaughtered. I'm staying.'

'So am I,' Rickard agreed with me and crossed his arms.

'Well, if you both want to die than we'll die together,' Uncle James told us. 'Let's get ready. We have until nightfall then it all ends.'

'But we're not going to die,' I told him with absolute certainty.

'You can't be sure of that,' he snapped.

'We have reinforcements on the way. Two thousand men.'

'So we're gambling on two thousand men arriving here soon even though we have no guarantee of them arriving. Try to be realistic you two. We have no hope.'

I knew he spoke the truth and I couldn't think of anything to say back to him. Then I saw my answer. Eothain and Freda with a woman. The way they spoke to each other and how the woman held them close.

'Uncle, look at them,' I gestured at the small family. 'Yesterday, those children didn't even know if their mother was alive and they'd be dead if we weren't brought here. I saved the lives of those two children.'

'Your point John?' he asked me, crossing his arms.

'My point is that even though there is no hope I know that there are miracles.'

I have been a soldier my whole life. I've seen dozens of battles and thousands dead. Yet in my life the saddest thing I had ever seen was what I saw in the caves. My Uncle was an experienced soldier and had been an officer in the army of King Richard so when Theoden had learned of this he'd been summoned to help plan the defence leaving Rickard and I to help carry out the worst job. We went into the caves to round up conscripts.

'This is wrong,' I said to Rickard as we watched young boys and old men being taken from their families.

'I know but,' Rickard paused, 'I suppose Markus would say we have no choice. Then I'd swear at him for not having a soul.'

'And then he'd remind us we have a job to do,' I said distantly as we walked forwards to find soldiers.

Rickard and I went our separate ways and I found myself walking towards two people, a woman of twenty, maybe twenty five years and a boy of thirteen years. Both had dark blonde hair and blue eyes. With each step filled with shame I walked forwards.

'The King has ordered that all men and boys who can bear arms be called up to fight,' I said to them and the woman grabbed me.

'No! You can't force my brother to fight! You can't!' the woman screamed into my face, her eyes red with tears.

'I'm sorry but it's not my choice,' I told her, not bearing to look her in the eye.

'Please! I'll do anything but don't force him to fight! He's all I have,' she pleaded and then she forced me to look at her. Even with the desperation clear in her eyes I was shocked at what she said. 'You can have me, do anything you want to me but don't make him fight. I promised our father that I wouldn't let him die! Please. I'll do anything you ask.'

I knew what she meant and I was shocked that she'd think me capable of such an act. The desperation in her eyes was almost too much to bear. But I'm a knight, I had to follow my orders.

'I'm sorry,' I said one more time and then forced her to let go of me. As I lead the boy away from her she collapsed to her knees and wept.

'Cenric!' she screamed. 'Cenric!'

'Sunniva,' he said as I lead him away from his only family.

Not long later Rickard, Uncle James and myself stood in the armoury and watched as boys too small to wear armour and men too old to carry weapons were being made ready for war. A few moments earlier Aragorn had stormed out of the armoury after an argument with Legolas which ended with the words "Then I shall die as one of them".

'I've seen better soldiers on a farm,' Uncle James whispered to us.

'It could be worse,' said Rickard.

'Not by much,' I told him.

'John sir,' young Eothain, now wearing a mail hauberk, a helmet too large for him and had a sword on his belt, said to me. 'I've done as you asked sir.'

'Thanks. Now let's get ready.'

Eothain and I walked to a table where my armour had been spread out by Eothain.

'Now follow my instructions for putting it on,' I told Eothain, who had agreed to be a temporary squire.

For the next half an hour he helped me put on my armour. Rickard and Uncle James had persuaded others to help them with the task. We started on my leg armour and Eothain strapped each metal plate into place on my legs. Then I put on my hauberk and Eothain strapped on my cuirass which was ornately decorated with a curved ridge pointing up towards my neck and at the tip of the point was a fleur de lys. Eothain then strapped on the armour which protected my arms, carefully strapping each piece into place. Once that was done I moved my arms and legs and found I could still move in the armour. I felt protected in it. Then my gauntlets were strapped on. My gauntlets fingers were all connected together, not giving me as much movement with my fingers but kept me well protected. Then my bevor was added around my nack and finally my sallet helmet. When that was on I let Eothain put the belt which held Alaric around me and he then handed me my poleaxe.

'Thank you,' I told him.

'You're welcome sir,' he said to me.

'Now go and see your mother then get up to the outer wall.'

He nodded and then hurried out of the armoury which was empty apart from me, my family, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. By now my Uncle and my cousin were wearing their armour. My armour was very similar to my uncles. The only two differences was that his armour had more ridges and larger plates on his shoulders and his helmet was a different style. While mine was a sallet helmet his was an armet with a visor. Rickard's armour was made in Milan so had no ridges but still possessed an elegance. His helmet left his eyes more exposed than mine or my uncle's but it gave him more visibility. On his left arm was his shield with his coat of arms on it.

'Well, we're ready,' my uncle said, his visor was up and his massive great sword was still strapped to his back.

'Now all we need is a woman waiting for us later,' Rickard said in a voice which made me wonder if he was serious or not.

My uncle looked at him for a moment and then said,

'I thought you denied everything when a man was seen half naked in the streets outside the tavern,' he dryly said to him.  
We all laughed a little and I was sure that Rickard's face had turned red beneath his helmet. Our brief moment of laughter was short lived though when we heard a horn blowing.

'That's no Orc horn,' I heard Legolas say and we all hurried out of the armoury to get to the battlements.

When my relatives and I arrived outside what awaited us was certainly not an army of Uruk-hai. Reinforcements had come. Elves, clad in ornate armour and elegant cloaks and carrying fine crafted bows of the finest make stood there. When we saw them I heard their leader say,  
'We have come to honour that allegiance.'

Aragorn quickly stepped towards the Elf and then hugged him before saying,

'You are most welcome.'

The elves in perfect precision then turned right towards King Theoden and stood to attention.

'We are proud to fight alongside men once more,' the Elf leader, whose name was Haldir, proudly declared and I smiled. We had a chance.

'Wait a minute,' Rickard suddenly said to me, 'Markus denied everything as well.'

AN: Well I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Helm's Deep next! YAY!

Review responses:

TimC34: Well I certainly try to.  
Kiya: DON'T DIE LAUGHING! I'm glad you liked Rickard, I'm trying not to make him an annoying side character that everyone wants to kill *cough Jarjar cough*

Please review and give me some feedback.

Have a nice day.


	6. Chapter 5 The Battle of Helm's Deep

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN- For the record I've altered the last chapter so I'd recommend re reading that one. It's not essential but it will help you understand some stuff which happens in this chapter.**

 **By the way I have a request. If anyone can do a drawing to be the cover image for this can they do one and send it to me. That would be great because I can't draw at all. Do whatever you like, use your imagination. Now onto the story.**

Chapter Five  
The Battle of Helm's Deep

I stood in the Hornburg in front of the statue of Hammerhand with Rickard next to me. In front of us stood thirty men. They were members of the Helm's Deep garrison and were all wearing mail armour. Each man was armed with a spear, shield and either an axe or a sword. They also each wore a green cloak which appeared to be the one piece of kit that every soldier of Rohan had. Those men looked at me waiting for me to speak. Earlier I had been given a temporary position in Rohans army due to the lack of officers, to be exact the rank of Captain. My Uncle had been made a temporary Captain as well but for some reason Rickard hadn't. Due to my new rank I was wearing my Rohan cloak that I wore on the way to Helm's Deep and somehow Rickard had got a cloak as well.

'Well listen to me soldiers,' I said at them and then internally groaned at how stupid it came out. 'Our job is to hold this fortress and defend your loved ones in the caves behind us.'

'Which means we kill anything that's got a White Hand on it,' Rickard clarified.

'Thank you Rickard. We've been positioned at the Gatehouse so when the enemy comes in we'll be in the thick of the action. Remember, we are the righteous. In us is nothing but faith and the desire for peace! All that our enemy has is a sadistic desire to kill and burn! We have something worth fighting for! Now to the Gates, God be with us and don't lose your heads!'  
My men gave a small cheer and then hurried to the Gatehouse.

'Good God,' I said to Rickard, 'how many of those men are going to die?'

'Don't even think about that.'

Rickard and I looked and saw my uncle walking towards us.

'John I need a word with you,' he said to me. 'Rickard, get to the Gatehouse.'

'Yes Sir,' Rickard said crisply and then quickly marched towards the Gatehouse.

'And he wonders why he's not my chief heir,' my uncle said distantly.

'Actually Uncle he's never wondered why he's not got as large a part of your will as Markus,' I reminded him.

'Well I'm just trying to motivate him into actually caring about something other than wine.'

'What did you need to speak to me about?' I asked him to get the conversation away from Rickard and alcohol.

'I've got advise for you,' he told me. 'This is your first time at holding a command. Make sure you don't show fear and be brave for your men. Don't let them think you're mortal.'

'So basically don't run and don't die,' I clarified.

'Yes. Good luck John.'

He then let a small sad smile creep onto his face and then walked away towards the Outer Wall.

'What about Rickard?' I asked him. 'Have you said anything to him?'

'I have,' he answered not turning to look at me.

A while later Rickard and I were in the Gatehouse with my men. The gates were right in front of me and I knew that soon we would be in the centre of the battle. Nervously I clutched the poleaxe in my hands while Rickard tapped the tip of his falchion on the wooden gates in front of him. Where we were we couldn't see the enemy army but we could hear them. It was a constant rolling thumping which went through the air and through my bones. The visor on my helmet was up, I'd pull it down once the fight actually began, and I listened to the sound of the Uruk-hai marching towards us as it grew louder. I heard the roar of thunder and the sound of rain. I felt Rickard nudge me and I turned to face him.

'What is it?' I asked him.

'Don't you think we should say a prayer?' he asked me, his voice a little muffled through his helmet's visor which was down.

'Yes,' I answered and then I said a silent prayer in my head which I shall record here.

Father above  
You have spared my life many times  
You have sent me here for a reason I know this  
I ask you now, grant me and all the others here victory  
To those who die take them to your care and bring them home to you  
For you decide the fate of all men  
Aman

There was no noise, as if our breathing itself had become silent. Then it started. A thumping. It kept crashing through our ears unnerving us all. Ten thousand beasts all at one thumping their weapons against their shields and the ground. Many of us in the gatehouse shifted slightly and nervously on the spot. It kept going for what felt like forever and then it suddenly stopped. The next thing we heard was a crashing as an Uruk-hai fell dead. Above us I heard my Uncles voice shout out victoriously,

'FIRST BLOOD TO US!'

Then we cheered. Everyone gave a short cheer over that one small victory. However, what little joy we had melted away when a brutal, guttural roar barked out and then a rumble as thousands of iron, shod boots charged forwards.

'Here we go again,' Rickard said with excitement as what I thought would be my last thoughts went through my mind. Where would God send me, to Heaven or Hell? He sent us here, surely he would not let us all die. What if He wasn't real? What if after I died there was nothing? I shook the thoughts out of my mind and cleared my head. I needed to know what was happening outside.

'Is anyone here fast?' I asked my men.

'I am sir,' said a boy at the age of roughly nineteen wearing a mail hauberk, a helmet with nose guard and was armed with a spear and axe.

'Get up there and let me know what's happening. If any Uruk-hai move up the causeway let us know. Understand?'

He quickly ran out of the gatehouse and up to the outer wall. For a while we heard shouting and steel clashing, coming from the Deeping Wall.

'Yes sir.'

'Move it!'

'Are we doing the kill count again?' Rickard asked me eagerly.

'Might as well,' I answered.

'What's taking them so long, I'm getting bored here,' Rickard said with false disappointment.

'Sir!' I heard my runner shout as he vaulted back into the gatehouse. 'The enemy are moving up the causeway now!'

'Ready yourselves!' I shouted at them and pulled down my helmets visor.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

'JESUS CHRIST!' cursed Rickard as the blast tore through the air. 'What in Christ's name was that?'

'It sounded like a cannon battery,' I said and later I would smile at the irony. Although it wasn't a cannon I didn't believe they had any black powder.

'Brace the gates!' Theoden shouted and we all pressed ourselves against the gates just as the first blow from the battering ram slammed into the wood throwing us all back.

We threw ourselves against the gates again doing all we could to keep them closed. I knew it was futile, that they'd get through eventually but every second we delayed them the closer our reinforcements were. They kept sending blow after blow against the gates and slowly pieces of wood broke away and then a massive chunk of the gates was destroyed as the ram cut through the gates, impaling one of my men. A flurry of crossbow bolts flew into the gatehouse killing more soldiers around me.

'Archers fire!' I shouted and my archers fired into the enemy crossbowmen. 'CHARGE!'

All of us bolted towards the hole in the gate with Rickard and I at the front. Our foes had forced open the gates and many of them were pouring into the breach. I impaled an Uruk-hai in the neck with the sharp butt of my poleaxe killing it. Each Uruk-hai wore full plate armour and carried falchions and spears. They were larger, stronger and far more ferocious than Orc's. One of them swung its falchion down toward my head. I blocked the blow with my poleaxe shaft and then sent a kick into its groin. It ignored the kick and kept fighting. I blocked another blow before Rickard came to the rescue and hacked into its neck from behind. Too many Uruk-hai were pouring into the breach and my men were trying to push them back out. It was too tight and confined for me to use my poleaxe effectively so I dropped it and pulled out Alaric. I swung him, slicing the front of an Uruk's neck sending black blood pouring out of the wound and down its chest. One of them swung its sword onto my head and the blow left me disorientated. After a moment I pulled myself together and attacked once more. I stabbed one through the arm pit and hacked into another's neck. Next to me Rickard had blacked a blow with his shield and was getting ready to return the blow. Many of the Uruk's were rushing through the breach and were deep amongst our ranks. Then Theoden arrived. He'd gathered all of our reserves and lead them into the fray. Using his sword in his left hand he blocked and parried enemy attacks, cutting down three Uruk's in quick succession. He was quickly next to Rickard and I at the breach where he killed another before an Uruk spear stabbed him in the joint of his armour.

'No,' I hissed. If the King was killed the morale of our forces would break completely. However, Theoden had a will made of iron and killed the Uruk with a stab from his sword. Gamling quickly pulled the King away from the front and I stepped into his place.

'All archers up top!' I ordered. 'Shoot them before they reach the gates!'  
I swung my sword three times and killed two more Uruk-hai. I then felt the crush of hundreds of men behind me rushing forwards to avenge the injury their king had suffered. I stabbed another in the mouth and then I saw one without a helmet. I quickly brought my sword down onto its skull and broke it open sending out a spray of black blood.

'We can't hold out much longer,' Rickard said as he kicked an Uruk in the knee breaking the bone and then sliced off the Uruk's head.

As he said those words the Uruk-hai attack faltered. I had no time to think about why that had happened and I kept fighting. When the last Uruk had been killed I saw the reason why. Aragorn and Gimli had somehow made it onto the causeway and were slaughtering their way through the Uruk's.

'Shore up the door!' ordered the King and men carrying beams of wood hurried forwards. 'John, lead half of your men up to the outer wall!'  
'Yes your majesty,' I said to him and picked up my poleaxe which somehow hadn't been broken and lead half of the men up to the outer wall where, to my horror, the Uruk-hai had erected ladders. Some of them were streaming into the courtyard towards me and my men. My face was hot and sweaty, my joints ached and I was growing more and more tired. I pushed up the visor of my helmet to let air kiss my face.

'CHARGE!' I bellowed and, with our weapons raised, all of us charged forwards.

Rickard was right next to me and behind us dozens of men. We crashed into them, I swung my poleaxe low cutting off the leg of an Uruk with the axe part of my weapon and let someone else finish it off. Then I smashed the blunt head of my weapon into the helmet of an Uruk crushing the skull beneath it. Rickard threw himself into an Uruk and used his shield to throw it into the ground where he finished it off with his falchion. I aimed at the legs of an Uruk and swung my weapon their knocking the beast off balance and tripping it over to be killed by one of my spearmen. We pushed the Uruk's back and we were soon spread along the outer wall fighting them off. I found my uncle in front of a ladder fighting with his Great Sword. With incredible strength for a man his age he sliced every Uruk that came up that ladder, sometimes killing them two at a time. During the battle I killed two more Uruk's and found my way to the ladder. I saw that there were elves fighting with us in the Hornburg. That was when I realized that we'd lost the Deeping Wall. For as long as we could we fought them off bravely. However, there were too many of them. Their blood lust and cruelty was too much for the conscripted men of Rohan.

'PULL BACK! PULL BACK!' I heard Gamling shout and I quickly moved to obey the order.

As I tried to make it off the Outer Wall I looked and saw what I didn't want to see. An Uruk was about to kill a child. I realized with horror that the child was the boy I took from his sister. I ran as fast as I could in my armour and attacked the Uruk from behind, sinking the head of my poleaxe into its neck. The Uruk fell dead and I grabbed the boy, carrying him with me as I ran.

'THE CASTLE IS BREACHED!' someone shouted. 'RETREAT!'

When we reached the courtyard Uruk's were racing through the fortress like a river of armour and muscle. I put Cenric down on the ground.

'RUN!' I shouted at him and he did run up the steps into the Hall and I followed him inside just before we had to slam doors shut.

I stepped into the Hall and then collapsed to the floor and pressed my back against the wall. I had taken off my helmet and dropped my poleaxe. I closed my eyes and let my thought take me. This was it. I was going to die. Every soldier in the fortress was going to die. Every person in the caves was going to die.

'John get up.'

I opened my eyes and saw my uncle looking down at me. Black blood was splattered across his armour and sword which he held in his hands. The visor on his helmet was still down.

'I said get up.'

'If you insist,' I said to him and managed to climb up to my feet.

'John I'm not going to say "I told you so".'

'You don't have to.'

'But if we're going to die,' he continued, 'then I won't have my nephew killed while napping. Now pick up your weapon and get ready to make a last stand.'

As I grabbed my poleaxe Rickard was looking at his falchion which had been broken in half. He shook his head, dropped the weapon and pulled out his mace.

'Never thought I'd die like this,' I said to my cousin.

'I did,' he said quickly. 'I always knew that I'd be killed in a fortress which was under attack by an army of ten thousand monsters that want to turn me into a very handsome and well prepared first course.'

I still managed to laugh at him. He was always optimistic even at our darkest hour. Some of the men were barricading the doors as a

battering ram slammed into them.

'The fortress is taken,' Theoden said loudly. 'It is over.'

'You said this fortress would never fall while men defend it!' shouted Aragorn over the noise of a table being overturned. 'They still defend it. They have died defending it!'

My family and I stood near the wall and prepared ourselves to meet our maker. I had put my helmet back on but the visor was up for now.

'It appears that even the King has given up,' my uncle said to us.

'I know,' I said to him. 'Are you ready to die?'

'No, I don't want to die, I want to live but I'm prepared to die.'

I was about to say something that would probably sound inspiring if I wrote it here when I heard Theoden give out orders.

'Let the horn of Helm Hammerhand sound in the Deep. One last time!'

'YES!' roared Gimli and hurried away to use the horn.

'Bring forth all the horses! We shall ride out for glory!' he declared and a few men hurried to the stables.

Our mounts were brought to us and I climbed onto Julius. In my left hand I held the reins and in my right I had my poleaxe. I felt my fear dissolve, knowing that we were about to die in glory. It's hard to describe what knowing that you were about to die feels like. Anyone who hasn't experienced it for themselves can never know what that feels like. I suppose I can describe it best as falling from a great height through the air. You know it is all about to end but you feel liberated.

'Good luck both of you,' my uncle said to Rickard and I.

I pulled down the visor of my helmet as we heard Theoden giving his speech.

'Fell deeds await. Now for wrath. Now for ruin and the red dawn!'

At long last the door broke open and the Uruk-hai stormed in.

'FORTH EORLINGAS!' Theoden roared and we all gave a defiant shout as we charged out smashing apart the Uruk's awaiting us.

I stabbed an Uruk as I rode past it with the butt of my pole axe. We rode out of the Hall and into the courtyard then down the path to the causeway. Every Uruk we rode by was killed, sliced down by our forces. We made it out of the Hornburg. I stabbed down and killed an Uruk that tried to kill Julius. All around us was a sea of Uruk-hai. I knew we could never win with these odds but we'd kill as many of those demons as possible. I stabbed at another but it blocked the blow and yanked the poleaxe from my hand. Quickly I pulled out Alaric and sliced the throat of the Uruk. Then I heard a horse whinny above all the noise of the battle and my eyes turned towards the sound. There, atop a hill between two cliffs on his white horse he was there. Quickly, all eyes turned towards him.

'Who's that?' asked Rickard, his mace covered in blood.

'It's Gandalf,' I told him and my spirits rose a little. He was then joined by another rider and then a whole line of horsemen.

'TO THE KING!' one of them shouted and then as one thousands of them charged down the hill towards the Uruk-hai.

The sun rose behind them blinding the Uruk's. That's when I noticed them. Some of our allies weren't wearing the mail and scale armour of the Rohirrim but instead were wearing full plate armour shining in the light. They were knights. Fifty knights. This force crashed into the Uruk-hai ranks and I kept fighting. Slicing Uruk after Uruk I kept fighting. They tried to hold us back but they had no chance. They retreated. We drove them back and they fled. We followed them but stopped when we reached a hill and saw something odd. A forest had appeared overnight and the Uruk's were running straight into it.

'Stop!' Gandalf ordered us and stop we did.

We watched the Uruk's run into the forest and they never came out of it. The trees shook wildly and the screams of Uruk-hai filled the air.

'VICTORY!' Theoden then shouted. 'We have victory.'

He was right. We had victory. By the grace of God, He had granted us victory. The smile beneath my visor was massive. Everyone was cheering. Relieved to be alive we all cheered. Our reinforcements cheered, those of us who had fought in the Hornburg cheered. It was incredible. I had pushed up the visor of my helmet, never before had the air felt so sweet. We had won. By the Will and the Grace of God we had been granted victory. My uncle and my cousin were next to me and we all cheered. Never before in my life had a victory been so sweet. As I thought that it couldn't have gotten any sweeter I saw a Knight dressed in Milanese armour riding towards us. He had a broken lance in his hand and a sword at his waist.

'Am I late?' he asked us and then took off his helmet.

We looked at his face and smiles split all of our faces. He was clean shaven and had short black hair.

'Markus,' my uncle said, his voice filled with joy.

Review response

Kiya-Well here's a fun fact, Haldir wasn't supposed to lead the elves to Helm's Deep. It was originally going to be Arwen. Yep. She was actually going to do something! That was how Aragorn was originally going to get the sword but it deviated so much from the original story that it outraged so many fans they changed it to Haldir even though they had filmed some scenes with her fighting. Thanks for your continued reviews.

Have a nice day.


	7. Chapter 6 The Council of England

The Stranger in Middle Earth

 **AN: I am still sorry for the delay of this chapter. I would also like you to know that if you haven't read my alteration to chapter four a key part of this chapter will not make sense.**

Chapter six

The Council of England

Following our victory Theoden King, Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn, Eomer and the Kings guard journeyed to Isengard to accept Saruman's surrender. That left the remainder of us to journey back to Edoras. Many of the refugees at Helm's Deep had lost their homes to the assault unleashed by the armies of Isengard so they were temporarily re-housed in Edoras or the surrounding villages. Not only the refugees but the English had to be temporarily housed as well. The total number of people from my world came to fifty seven. That was fifty three English knights, three men-at-arms and one Priest named Father Harold. The older knights, such as my uncle and Father Daniel, were given rooms in the Golden Hall. Many of the knights had tents which they set up outside the city wall and those who didn't such as Rickard and I, were temporarily housed in the city with the residents. I still remember the day I was housed in the city.  
Theoden had just returned from Isengard. Rickard and I were walking towards the house we had been put in for the time being. We both carried our packs and wore our cloaks. In my hand I held a piece of paper with orders for the people who lived there to allow us in. Markus was busy outside the city setting up his tent.

'I hope they don't mind us intruding on them,' I said to Rickard.

'Well Lady Eowyn did sign the order,' he reminded me. 'Let's just hope we're not moving in with a butcher.'

'Especially after your last encounter with a butcher,' I said and we both chuckled.

'Don't remind me of that,' he then told me as we came to a small house with wooden walls and a thatched roof. It appeared to be only five by six meters and next to it was a shed with some wooden cart wheels leaning against it. 'Is this the place?'

'I think so.'

'You go first.'

'Alright.'

I then stepped towards the door, nervous at essentially invading a person's home. I knocked on the door and then waited for a response. A few moments later the door was pulled open and I recognised the person who answered it. Her eyes were no longer red with crying and she looked much calmer. She was dressed in a brown dress with a white apron. Sunniva looked at me and her eyes widened in surprise at seeing me.

'Oh. Can I help you?' she asked me.

'Yes, my cousin and I have been temporarily housed here.'

'I beg your pardon?' she asked me.

'I have the order here signed by Lady Eowyn,' I then handed her the paper and after she examined it she let us in.

'You'll have to sleep on the floor I'm afraid,' she told us as we entered. 'You'll find some spare blankets in the wardrobe over there.'

Once we were both in I saw the inside of the one room house. Near the back wall was a large bed with a chair next to it. On the floor of the room was a hearth with a griddle on it, near the hearth was a table with a little meat on it next to a knife. The wardrobe was next to the bed which Rickard walked to.

'Where's your brother?' I asked Sunniva as she walked to the table and picked up the knife to prepare the meal.

'He's buying some bread,' she answered.

'I see. Well is there anything I can do to help you?'

'I don't think so.'

Sunniva continued preparing the food for a few minutes while Rickard and I prepared our bedrolls.

'How do you know her?' Rickard whispered.

'I conscripted her younger brother to fight at Helm's Deep,' I whispered back.

'Ah. Well I hope that won't make things awkward.'

'I think it's too late for that.'

'Too late for what?' Sunniva asked from the table.

I silently cursed that she overheard the conversation.

'I was telling Rickard that it's too late for him to get out of the meeting at the Inn tonight,' I quickly made up.

'What meeting?'

'Everyone from England is meeting at the Inn tonight. It's to discuss what we're doing for the remainder of the war.'

'I see.'

The door then opened and Cenric walked in carrying a loaf of bread.

'I've got the bread Sunniva,' he said as he walked in but when he saw Rickard and I he looked a little confused. 'Why are they here?'

'For the moment they have to live with us.'

Sunniva took the bread and put it on the table.

'Wait a minute,' Cenric said when he looked at me again. 'You saved my life at Helm's Deep!'

'No he was the man who conscripted you,' Sunniva reminded him.

'And during the battle when an Uruk-hai tried to kill him I killed the Uruk and got him to the Hall.'

Sunniva looked at me for a second, clearly surprised.

'Oh.'

For a few seconds we were silent while Rickard drummed his fingers on the shaft of his mace.

'John,' Rickard said, breaking the thick silence, 'I think we should be getting to the Inn soon.'

'I think you're right,' I said and then followed Rickard out of the house.

The meeting wasn't supposed to start for another hour but Rickard guessed correctly that we needed to get out of there quickly.

'Well that could have gone better,' Rickard said as we walked towards the Inn.

'Well that's the absolute truth.'

'Hopefully when we get back tonight the tension will be gone.'

'Or maybe I could sleep outside?' I suggested.

Rickard laughed at me when I suggested that.

'No. You faced down the Uruk-hai. You're not going to be intimidated by the thought of a woman who used to hate you for conscripting her brother.'

The Inn was a large room with a bar at one end and many tables were scattered around the room. A staircase led up to some rooms upstairs, all of which were occupied by refugees. A few knights were already there and were sitting at the counter drinking something. My uncle had become the de facto leader of our group and had managed to arrange it so that the English had sole use of the Inn that night for our meeting. Rickard and I sat at a table with a beer each. After a while Father Harold stepped in. He wore a black cassock and had a golden crucifix hanging from his neck. He bought a small mead and then sat alone in the corner. As time went on the Inn filled up quickly. Markus sat down with Rickard and I with a beer.

'Well, now is the hour,' he said to us.

'The hour of what?' Rickard asked him.

'We will now find out what is going on,' Markus clarified. 'We all have questions that need answered.'

'I suppose so. We need to find out how we will win this war.'

'No,' Markus said to us. 'We need to find out how to get home,' he then looked at Rickard who had just finished his beer. 'What do you think?'

'Me? Well, I'll just stay where I am and react to whatever happens.'

'Not a bad plan,' I said with a smile knowing that wouldn't go down well with Markus.

'No. We need long term goals to reach.'

The door of the Inn opened again and in walked my uncle and Gandalf. Gandalf was carrying a four foot long scroll of paper under his left arm and held his staff in his right hand. When they stepped in the idle chatter amongst us, all of us where there by then, died down as my uncle took his seat at the opposite side of the room from the bar. Gandalf however un-scrolled the paper and then pinned it against the wall revealing a map showing Rohan and two other countries called Gondor and Mordor. Gandalf then sat down in his seat. After a few moments my uncle stood up and cleared his throat.

'Gentlemen,' he started, 'we are here tonight to discuss our plans for survival while we are here in Rohan. Theoden King has been

generous enough to allow us to stay in Rohan. However, there is still a war to fight.'

'Against who?' asked a young knight.

'I believe that Gandalf is more qualified to answer that question,' my uncle answered and gestured to Gandalf.  
Gandalf stood up and pointed his staff at Mordor on the map. The country was surrounded on three of four sides by mountains.

'Mordor is our enemy.'

'No, your enemy,' said Markus. 'We have no reason to be in this war.'

'As I was saying,' Gandalf said, obviously annoyed at being interrupted, and then continued, 'Mordor is **our** enemy. To know the full reasons for this war I will have to take you back thousands of years into the past. This war begins with the forging of the great rings. Three were given to the Elves, Seven to the Dwarf Lords and Nine to the Kings of Men. Within these rings was the strength and power to govern the Free Peoples of Middle Earth. However, another ring was made. In the land of Mordor, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret the Master Ring. Into this Ring he poured his cruelty, malice and will to dominate all life. One Ring to rule them all. The people off Middle Earth one by one fell to the power of the Ring and the armies of Mordor. Then a Last Alliance of Men and Elves marched against the armies of Mordor and on the slopes of Mount Doom where the Ring was forged, they fought for the Freedom of Middle Earth. But not even they could resist the Rings power. Even the Elendil, the Greatest King of Men, was slain by Sauron and his sword was broken. Then, at their darkest hour, Isildur, son of Elendil, took up the broken sword and cut the Ring from Sauron's hand defeating the Dark Lord.'

'No offence Gandalf,' an older knight named Robert of Essex said loudly, 'but what does that have to do with this war?'

'Everything,' Gandalf answered. 'Isildur did not destroy the Ring but within the Ring the spirit of Sauron lived on. The Ring betrayed Isildur to his death and the Ring was then lost in the River Anduin for thousands of years. During those years Sauron corrupted the nine rings made for men and turned their owners into the Ring Wraiths. Neither living nor dead they were tasked to search for the Ring. Eventually the Ring was found by a creature named Gollum who took it into the Misty Mountains where the Ring kept him alive for five hundred years. But the Ring slipped off his finger as well coming to the hand of another named Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. Sauron cannot take physical form without the Ring but will soon unleash an army that will overrun all of Middle Earth.'

'As you can see,' my uncle added, 'we have no choice but to fight.'

'Then I say we march straight into Mordor and get them before they can strike us,' Rickard said loudly and some of the others nodded in agreement.'

'No,' Gandalf said loudly. 'At Helm's Deep we defeated the armies of Sauron's ally, Saruman. We have given hope to the Free Peoples that perhaps we can win. I believe that Sauron will strike soon.'

'What about Gondor?' I asked Gandalf. 'Gondor is right next to Mordor so shouldn't we go there?'

'No we should stay here,' argued Robert of Essex.

'You are all missing a more important issue,' said Father Harold. His voice was gentle but held authority and knowledge. 'Gandalf, please understand that I do not want to see this world fall to a man as evil as Sauron but I must ask one question. Can we return to England?'

Gandalf was silent. He looked at the floor for a moment before he looked at us all and said one world.

'No.'

An uproar started and I closed my eyes to block out the noise coming from all of the other knights. This went on for what felt like forever until I heard Gandalf's voice, now dark and booming, roll like thunder through the room.

'SILENCE! I DO NOT SAY THIS TO DISENHEARTEN YOU. I have had this conversation before, many years ago the last time a man from your world came through to this world.'

'And who was that?' the oldest of the men-at-arms, an old soldier with two scars crossing his face, one of which over his blind left eye, named Jason Bridge asked the wizard.

'What?'

'Who was the last person who came through to this world and where is he now?'

Again Gandalf remained silent for a moment and I thought that he looked at my uncle once or twice.

'He is an Englishman who is over ninety years old now. He resides in the Kingdom of Erebor for to the north of here. His name,' he paused again before telling us, 'is Bartholomew Harris.'

I choked on my beer and both of my cousins said at the same time, 'WHAT?'

My uncle's jaw dropped. The look on his face was shock.

'Impossible,' he said to Gandalf. 'Bartholomew Harris is dead. He died at Agincourt decades ago.'

'No. He was taken from your world during the Battle of Agincourt and taken to this world.'

'But, I don't believe it,' my uncle stammered out. 'My father is alive.'  
Needless to say that surprised everyone who heard it. My uncle sat in his chair motionless for a short time until he snapped back to the present. 'I want to go to Erebor to see my father. But there is a war to fight. Make no mistake, once this war is over I will go to Erebor to see my father.'

'And we'll go with you,' Rickard loudly declared and gestured to Markus and I.

'Good,' Gandalf said and smiled. 'I suspected you were related but I know now for certain.'

'What next then?' I asked them both.

'Well,' my uncle said with energy which he never had outside of a battle, 'for now I believe we should remain in Rohan. Then, once we learn more of Sauron's plan we shall react in the best way possible.'

'My plan,' Rickard whispered to me and I chuckled at that.

'For now I intend to form a council,' my uncle told us. 'This council shall represent all Englishmen in Middle Earth and our interests here. I have selected the five members of the council. They are myself, my eldest son, Markus, Robert of Essex, Father Harold and Jason Bridge.'

'There is one last thing to be done,' Gandalf then told us. 'What will the name of your council be?'

'The Council of England,' my uncle answered.

'Good,' Gandalf then rose from his chair and leaned on his staff. 'Tomorrow there will be a feast to celebrate our victory. I shall see you all there.'

AN: HA! Was anyone expecting that? If you were let me know. The point of this chapter was to establish the motivations of the characters from this point on. I hope you didn't find this one to be like the Senate scenes in Phantom Menace. By the way I'm still hoping someone can help me with a cover image.

Review responses:

Kiya: Yeah, I try to keep my battle scenes realistic and gory. By the way, you can actually see Arwen at Helm's Deep in the theatrical cut. When Eomer and his men arrive you can see her wearing pink and riding a white horse in the background.

TimC34: Thanks for your review and that was a really good idea you suggested.

Certh: Thanks for your reviews. Originally John Harris was going to be a British Tommy from WW1 but I changed it to a knight because I thought it would be more interesting. And he was also originally going to be in Rivendell, to be exact, the part where Arwen is racing to Rivendell with injured Frodo. I'll keep in mind what you said about the paragraphs again.


	8. Chapter 7 Celebrations

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to the Lord of the Rings or any associated names and characters.

Chapter seven

Celebrations

The next evening the celebration for our victory was held in the Golden Hall. Everyone in Edoras was there. The Main Hall was filled with chairs and tables with hundreds of people. Rickard, Markus and I were sitting together at a table with filled mugs of beer which we weren't allowed to drink yet. Sitting with us were a few knights and some Rohirrim. I wasn't wearing any armour but still had Alaric with me, just in case.

'What are we waiting for?' Rickard asked me.

'For His Majesty,' Markus answered before I could, 'to make a toast and then we can get drunk.'

'I just hope you won't be as bad as last time,' I said to Rickard with a small laugh in my voice.

'I make no promises,' Rickard said loudly and everyone else on the table laughed.

Everyone then went silent when Theoden stepped up to the dais which his throne sat on. Standing alongside him were Eowyn and Eomer. Theoden lifted up a cup, signalling all of us to stand, and he then made his toast.

'Tonight we remember those who gave their lives in defence of this country. Hail the victorious dead!'

'HAIL!' everyone echoed and then we took a drink from our mugs.

After that the party began. We were all drinking and cheering. After ten minutes Rickard was drinking his third mug of beer and was still standing while I had only drank one. Food was served as well in the form of cheese, bread, cooked meat and some vegetables. I laughed at a joke that one of the knights told while I chewed a piece of meat. Music filled the hall from the minstrels playing their instruments while laughter echoed in every person's ears. After a while I stood up leaving Rickard and Markus to bicker about which of them is the better soldier. I was leaning against a pillar drinking some of my beer.

'John?' said a voice to my left which came from Father Harold. 'May I have a word?'

'Yes Father Harold,' I responded.

'Do you trust Gandalf?' he asked me.

'Yes,' I responded. 'Why do you ask?'

'Well,' he started, 'this is a new world for us and I want to know who I can trust.'

'As long as they don't support Sauron I think we can trust them.'

'I hope so John. Then there is the matter of what we do after the war is over.'

'My cousin Rickard would say that we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.'

'That's not a very good way to approach life,' Father Harold commented. 'There is also something you should know.'

'And that is?'

'There was a young lady looking for you.'

'Who?' I asked him.

'I'm not sure of her name. If I were you I'd just keep a look out.'

'I'll-keep that in mind.'

'I will see you later John.'

With that Father Harold walked away back into the crowd.

A few minutes later I was sitting next to a table where one of the knights was drunk and singing a song about Robin Hood, a folk hero from England. Everyone around him, myself included, was clapping their hands to make a rhythm. Soon a realized that someone was standing close by me. I turned around to see Sunniva standing there with a nervous look on her face.

'Can I talk to you?' she asked me.

'Of course,' I said to her in the most polite voice I could find and then I gestured to the empty chair next to me.

'No in private,' she firmly told me.

'Alright,' I said and then we walked to the main doors and outside to where I had spoken with Gandalf on my first day in Edoras.

'I just want to say sorry for what I said to you before the battle,' she told me which took me by surprise. 'I should have known that you would never have agreed to do to me what I said you could do.'

'You don't need to apologise,' I assured here. 'You were desperate and wanted to make sure your brother was safe.'

'Thank you John,' she said to me and smiled. 'Thank you for saving my brother I mean.'

'I was just doing the right thing. I know you would have done the same if you were there.'

'If I had a polearm I would have,' she said which caused us both to chuckle. 'Is it true that you and your companions are from another world? The Innkeeper was saying that he heard you and the others talking about another world last night in the Inn. Usually what he says is rubbish but I want to know if he's right for once.'

After a moment of silence I answered her.

'Yes it's true. We are from another world.'

For a second she looked at me with wide eyes filled with surprise.

'What's it like? Your home?'

I smiled at the memories which came through my mind.

'I lived in a country called England which is a part of a group of islands. It's a beautiful country with deep forests and tall mountains. I was raised by my uncle in his castle a few miles from a city called York.'

'What about your mother and father? Why didn't they raise you?'

'My parents died years ago. My father died in battle fourteen years ago. My mother died not long after that so my uncle adopted me.'

'I'm sorry,' she said with sympathy in her voice and a sense of knowing. 'My own parents are dead as well. My mother died a year ago. Father died in the Warg attack.'

I looked back at that battle. It was brutal and violent. So many men died there.

'I'm sorry,' I said to her.

Then sun had set by then and the stars were just visible but many were covered by thick clouds. I heard the doors behind us open and Markus walked up to me.

'Rickard's got himself into a drinking game. I'm not sure of you wanted to watch it.'

'I'll be right there,' I told him and Markus walked back inside.

'This should be entertaining,' Sunniva said to me and we walked back inside together. It didn't take us long to find Rickard at a table with Legolas, Gimli and Eomer.

'No pauses, no spills,' Eomer explained the rules.

'And no regurgitation,' Gimli added, earning a laugh from the Rohirrim. 'If you drink as good as your grandfather young Harris you might just win,' Gimli then said to Rickard.

'I'll do my best,' Rickard said although I could smell Ale on his breath already.

They began drinking while some of the Rohirrim bet money on who would win. I drank from my own mug while the three competitors slowly got more and more drunk. Gimli and Rickard furiously drank down mug after mug while Legolas approached it a little more calmly. Soon Rickard was leaning back in his chair drinking what must have been his seventh mug of the contest. Soon I heard Gimli comment about "hairy women" but what he meant I won't try to figure out.

'He cannot hold his ale,' Gimli said about Legolas when he himself fell over backwards gaining a cheer from the onlookers.

'I need to go and check up on Cenric,' Sunniva told me. 'I'll see you at the house tonight.'

'Of course,' I responded and she then walked away. I watched her for a few moments but my eyes were soon fixed on Rickard who was draining another mug.

'I won't lose,' he said with strong determination and then spilt the contents of the mug over his face hair and fell over.  
Everyone cheered for Legolas who had won.

After that I joined a crowd around a table where two little people with pointed ears and large hairy feet were dancing and singing on a table while holding mugs of ale.

'Who are they?' I asked Gandalf who was nearby.

'They John Harris are named Merry and Pippin, Hobbits of the Shire. They were vital in the defeat of Saruman.'

'How so?' I asked him.

'They rallied an army in Fangorn Forest and led them in an attack on Isengard itself while Saruman's armies were at Helm's Deep.'

'Looking at them you wouldn't have thought so,' I commented.

'One thing you should know about Hobbits John is that they are always full of surprises.'

'I'll remember that Gandalf.'

'Gandalf,' it was my uncle this time. 'I see your enjoying yourself.'

'I certainly am James. I hope you are as well.'

'I am.'

'Just like your father James, you appear to be enjoy a good party.'

'Well if he lives with Dwarfs and all of Gimli's stories of Dwarvish feasts are true then that's to be expected,' I said to Gandalf.

'Yes John. The dwarves do enjoy their feasts. One Dwarf in Erebor is so large from food that he needs six other dwarfs to carry him.'

'I would very much hope to meet him when I journey to Erebor,' my uncle said to Gandalf.

'And I think that Rickard will enjoy Dwarven ale,' Gandalf added with a small smile.

'Well in that case,' I said while raising my mug, 'to Dwarven ale and Erebor.'  
That was the last I can clearly remember of the party. I can vaguely remember drinking, singing and some dancing before I eventually fell asleep.

It was dark and a few others were asleep in a similar manner to me. I stood up, feeling a little dizzy and sick, noticing that I still had my mug in my hand. I quietly put it on a table and then walked to the doors. The cold air outside helped clear my head a little but I was still a little unsteady on my feet.

'Good evening John,' I heard the voice of Aragorn say to me.

'Hello,' I said to him and then saw Legolas next to him. 'Congratulations Legolas. You actually beat Rickard at drinking.'

'Thank you John,' he said to me but he didn't look at me. He appeared distant.

'Aragorn I can't remember much after the drinking contest,' I told him. 'Did I do anything I should be worried about?'

Aragorn looked at me with a slight smile for a second and was about to answer when Legolas spoke.

'The stars are veiled. Something stirs in the east.'

His voice was ominous and out of habit my hand reached to Alaric.

'The eye of the enemy is moving.'

My hand tightened around my sword. I had a bad feeling about this. Then, with his voice filled with alarm, Legolas proclaimed,

'He is here!'

Then, with incredible speed, he bolted towards the Golden Hall closely followed by Aragorn and myself. As we ran I am convinced that we woke up half of the Golden Hall. I drew Alaric from his sheath and continued running, ignoring the effects that the alcohol had on me. Through my head I tried to understand what Legolas meant. Did he mean that Sauron was in the Golden Hall? Could we destroy him? We burst into a room where I saw one of the Hobbits-Pippin I remembered-holding a round ball of fire in his hands. Pippin was silently screaming in agony, his face twisted with fear and pain. Aragorn was the first to come to his aid and yanked the ball out of Pippins hands only to become attached to his hands.

'HOLD IT STILL!' I shouted and then, after dropping Alaric, I yanked the ball out of Aragorn's grip and looked at it. It was solid, like stone, and amongst the flames on the ball I saw a black slit, like the eye of a cat.

 _I was standing in an empty wasteland of black rock and fire. The sky above was black and in the distance I could see a mountain with fire spewing out of the top of it. Then that vanished as a sheet of flame appeared in front of me, almost burning my skin, and I backed away, feeling for Alaric but he wasn't there. In the centre of the sheet of fire emerged a black, slit like, like the eye of a cat.  
_

 _'WHO ARE YOU?' a hissing voice emerged from the fire which was now all around me. 'WHAT ARE YOU?'  
_

 _'In the name of God I command you to leave me alone!' I shouted.  
_

 _'WHAT ARE YOU?'_

 _'I am a knight of England,' I declared.  
_

 _'ENGLAND,' the voice hissed. 'A COUNTRY FROM ANOTHER WORLD. SOON I, SAURON THE GREAT, SHALL DOMINATE THIS WORLD AND THEN I SHALL SPILL FORTH INTO YOUR WORLD.'  
_

 _'Over my dead body!' I shouted.  
_

 _'SO IT SHALL BE,' Sauron hissed.  
_

 _Then Everything changed from a wasteland to a place I knew so well. My uncles castle in England. But it was different. What had once been a tall tower of brown stone and surrounded by a wall was now a crumbling ruin. Fire turned everything red and the sky was covered by black smoke. I walked towards the ruins of the home I once knew. Then I saw bodies. Orc's and Warg's with arrows embedded in them and black blood splattered across the ground. Slowly I walked over the ruined walls that were now nothing more than crumbling piles of stone. There I found the bodies of knights and sergeants. A few bowmen were there as well. All of them had their heads hacked clean off. I then found the heads on spikes in the place which had once been the garden where my cousins and I had played as children. I looked at the heads, tears spilling from my eyes and dripping onto the blood soaked ground.  
_

 _'THIS IS WHAT YOUR HOME SHALL BECOME.'_

 _I turned around to see a terrifying figure, clad in spike covered black armour and carrying a black mace. I then saw on his finger a golden ring, glinting menacingly and cruelly in the red light. It was Sauron. I couldn't say anything as the scene changed to a city burning. It was London. The streets were piled high with blood covered corpses of men, women and children. Dead soldiers and militia fighters, some armed with nothing more than clubs and kitchen knives, lay dead in the streets amongst their slain Orc foes. Smoke choked me and I saw that I was now wearing my armour and Alaric was in my hand. The blade was soaked in dripping black blood. At the end of the street I saw Sauron towering menacingly over the me and casting a black shadow over all.  
_

 _'I will not let this happen.'  
_

 _'NOTHING CAN STOP ME,' Sauron taunted me.  
_

 _The scene changed again to show entire forests on fire, whole cities reduced to ash. I saw York burning and I recognized Saint Peters Basilica from paintings. Columns of smoke rose into the sky and the cross, a symbol of peace and hope, had been replaced by a ragged black banner showing a red eye._

I was thrown out of that nightmare world as Gandalf, who had been asleep in the room, pulled the ball out of my hands and then threw a cloth over it before spinning around and shouting at Pippin,  
'Fool of a Took!'  
Gandalf's anger vanished when he saw Pippin, weak and frail on the floor. Quickly Gandalf knelt beside the Hobbit, looking like a grandfather with his injured grandchild. He put his hand on the Hobbits forehead and chanted something quietly.  
'What in God's name is going on?'  
It was Father Harold who had said it. He had just walked in followed by my uncle and Robert of Essex.  
'I'm not sure,' I answered and then slid to the floor.  
Sweat covered my forehead and I felt exhausted, as if I'd ran through a smiths forge.  
'I saw a city that was burning,' Pippin said in a pained whisper. 'A white tree. In a courtyard of stone. It was dead!'  
'Minas Tirith,' Gandalf said with shock and fear.  
'What are you talking about?' my uncle asked Gandalf.  
'We now know Sauron's plan.'

Review response:

Kiya-Thanks for your continued support.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Have a nice day.


	9. Chapter 8 The Councils Decision

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to The Lord of the Rings.

Okay I kinda made a mistake with updating and accidently put on two of the same chapter. Please read this one which should have been here anyway.

Chapter Eight

The Council's decisions

'And then I saw London, York, even Rome burning. He'd replaced the cross on the Basilica with a black banner showing a red eye. Everything was reduced to a charnel house.'

Everyone else in the Golden Hall, which was the Council, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Gandalf and Theoden, listened to me as I told them what I saw. Apparently the ball was known as a Palantir, also called a seeing stone, which Gandalf retrieved from Isengard. It appeared that Sauron was trying to spy on us through the Palantir but Pippin had picked it up which alerted us to Sauron's presence.

'As we have seen thanks to John and Pippin we have seen a glimpse of Sauron's plan,' Gandalf clarified. 'Our victory at Helm's Deep has shown the peoples of Middle-Earth that Sauron can be defeated. Sauron has also learned that the Heir of Elendil has come forth,' Gandalf then glanced at Aragorn.

'And we now know that Sauron wants to rule our world as well,' Father Harolds said in a whisper.

'How could he even go to our world though?' Markus asked Gandalf. 'You said that we can't go back so how can Sauron go through.'

Gandalf was silent as he thought of an answer.

'There was once a person who was rumoured to have discovered a way to travel from world to world. His name was Morgoth. He was Sauron's master but Morgoth was defeated millennia ago. It was believed that the skill to travel between worlds at will died with him.'

'Well apparently not,' my uncle added. 'Morgoth must have passed on his knowledge to Sauron.'

'That is the only explanation I can think of,' Gandalf agreed with my uncle. 'However, for now we can't focus on his plans for your world. More important are his plans for Middle-Earth. Sauron moves now to strike at Minas-Tirith, the capital of Gondor. He will burn it to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne of men,' again, I saw Gandalf look at Aragorn before turning to Théoden. 'If the beacons of Gondor are lit then Rohan must be ready for war.'

I expected Theoden to agree with what Gandalf said but instead Theoden asked, 'Tell me, why we should ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? To what do we owe Gondor?'

'I will go,' Aragorn quickly said to Gandalf.

'No.'

'They must be warned.'

'They will be,' Gandalf told him and then he whispered something which I couldn't properly make out but I heard the words, "river" and "black ships".

'Well,' my uncle said to the Council, 'I assume we are unanimous in agreeing to help defeat Sauron.'  
Everyone voiced their agreement to what my uncle said.

'Then I'll tell the men to get ready to ride in an hour,' Jason said and then stood up, ready to get going.

'Wait a moment,' Father Harold told the soldier. 'I don't think that is wise.'

'No offence Father but when I decide to start preaching you can lecture me but not before.'

'At least listen to what he has to say,' Robert snapped at Jason.

Jason sat down again and crossed his arms.

'Well imagine this,' Father Harold addressed the council. 'You are the commander of Minas-Tirith, there is an army about to attack your city and then a force of seventy well trained, well armed and experienced soldiers arrive and offer to help defend your city. What would you think?'

'I'd use me brain and use any help I can get,' Jason answered, seeming bored by the meeting.

'No,' Markus told Jason. 'I would be suspicious. He'd perhaps think that we are spies or enemy agents.'

'So we just on our backsides and wait here then?' asked Jason.

'Precisely. However, if we arrive as a part of an army which has come to aid that leader then he has no reason to fear us.'

'That is assuming that Theoden will ride out and that Gondor will ask for aid,' my uncle reminded him. 'There is something else though. We need to speak with Gandalf.'

Gandalf heard my uncle and then sat down at the table.

'What is the matter?'

'How long will it take to ride from here to Minas Tirith by the fastest road?' my uncle asked him.

'Three days hard riding,' he answered.

'And what did you mean by "the beacons of Gondor"?'

'The beacons are a chain of fires waiting to be lit along the mountains between here and Minas Tirith. When either Gondor or Rohan requires each other's aid they light the beacon closest to their respective capital city and the next beacon on the chain will then be lit until all the beacons a lit which will tell the other leader that they require aid.'

'How long will it take for all the beacons to be lit?' Markus asked him.

'A day.'

'That is assuming that you can persuade the King of Gondor to light the beacons,' Father Harold reminded him.

'The Steward of Gondor,' Gandalf corrected him. 'Gondor has no king now until the heir of Elendil comes forth to claim his throne.'

'And who is that?' I asked him.

Gandalf was silent for a moment and I saw him looking at Aragorn for a moment. I wondered why he would do that.

'Aragorn is the heir of Elendil,' the wizard answered.

'That's not important,' my uncle said, wanting to get back on topic but I looked at Aragorn with surprise. Him. A King? I thought he had an air of nobility to him but I wouldn't have thought that he would be a king.  
'Let's assume that it would take a day for you to persuade the Steward to light the beacons,' my uncle suggested, 'and three days to ride there plus a day for the signal to reach us. If the beacons are not lit five days from now then we will ride to Minas Tirith. If the beacons are lit and Theoden agrees to help then we will remain with Rohan's army and ride to war with them.'

'I agree,' Father Harold said and all of the others nodded their heads in agreement.

'Shouldn't the rest of the men know what will happen if we fail here?' Robert of Essex asked the rest of the council.

'We should do that once we're done here,' said Markus.

'That said we should try to form a relationship with as many countries as we can,' my uncle added. 'Therefore I shall go to Gondor alone,' my uncle announced to the surprise of everyone.

'You can't just go off alone,' I told him.

'John's right,' Markus agreed with me. 'You will need a bodyguard while in Gondor. I'll go with you.'

'No,' my uncle told him. 'I'll bring a bodyguard but not my heir.'

'Then who?' Markus and I asked at the same time.

'John,' my uncle said to me, 'go and get Rickard. Tell him to be ready to ride within the hour.'

'Are you sure uncle?' I asked him.

'Do as I say.'

I left the Hall and as fast as I could I ran through Edoras down to Sunniva's house where I was sure I could find Rickard. When I reached the house I nearly ran straight into Sunniva who was just walking out.

'Sorry,' I said to her. 'Is Rickard in there?'

'Yes, he's still asleep and I'm surprised he's alive after last night.'

'Shame I have to wake him up,' I said to her.

'Is something wrong?' she asked me, a puzzled look on her face.

'I'll explain later,' I answered and then walked in to see Rickard asleep on his blankets and snoring.  
I shoved him a little but he didn't wake up. I groaned and shook my head before kicking him which woke him up.

'What's happening?' he asked me.

'You're riding within the hour,' I told him.

'Where are we going?' he asked as he stood up and put on his shirt and cloak.

'Not "we", you,' I told him. 'You, your father and Gandalf are going to Gondor.'

'Why aren't you coming?'

'He'll explain everything,' I told him.

'But we've always gone into something important together. Remember, we were right next to each other at Bosworth when we charged Tudor and his French mercenaries.'

'I know. I want to go with you but your father has decided that this is what will happen.'

'What about the council?' he was now fully dressed and had strapped his shield onto his back and he put on his belt holding his mace and a new Rohirric sword.

'I think they are all behind him.'

Rickard grabbed the sack holding his armour and then started walking towards the door.

'Let's get to the Hall,' he said to me and then we hurried up to the Golden Hall.

After my uncle had explained what was going to happen I went with Rickard to the stables to help him get his horse ready. As we strapped the saddle onto the horse Rickard looked at me and asked,

'Why do you always agree to what my father says?'

'Well, he's the head of the family so we should go along with what he says,' I answered.

'You should do what I do,' he said to me.

'Make it up as I go along?' I asked.

'No, you nod your head and then do what you think is right.'

'If everyone did that Rickard then every King's authority, every lords authority and our authority over peasants back in England would fall apart.'

'I only do it when I think I have to. I just don't think you should follow orders like a mindless serf back home.'

'Which serf, Wat Tyler[1]?' I asked him as a joke and he laughed a little. 'Just keep your mind on the job for now. Don't do anything stupid.'

'When have I done anything stupid?'

'Do you want me to list them?'

'Not at the moment.'

My uncle then walked in and started to saddle his own horse.

'Are you ready yet?' he asked Rickard.

'Of course,' Rickard answered. 'I'll wait for you outside.'

Rickard then climbed onto his horse and rode to outside the stable. My uncle rolled his eyes and then climbed onto his own horse.

'John,' he said, 'as I'll be away for a while there's a spare place on the council which will have another meeting at midday in the Inn. You're taking that place until the rest of you reach Minas Tirith.'

'Why are you giving me that position?' I asked him. 'I'm not as intelligent as Markus or as experienced as Bridge or Robert.'  
'Because I don't completely trust anyone here outside of my own family,' he answered, 'with two of my family members on the Council I can trust them not to make any stupid decisions.'

'Alright,' I answered, seeing the logic in his answer. 'I promise that no one will do anything stupid.'

'You're so much like your father you know. You better stay alive or else I'll lose what I have left of him.'

'I'm going to survive so that I can meet grandfather at last. How do you think he got into Erebor in the first place?'

'I asked Gandalf that last night after you got too drunk to dance. He said something about a quest decades ago.'

'No doubt we'll find out soon.'

'We certainly will. Goodbye John.'

'Goodbye uncle. I'll see you soon.'

'You certainly will.'

I followed him out of the stables and I saw Gandalf and Pippin sitting on Gandalf's horse, Shadowfax, and Rickard on his horse.

'Goodbye Rickard,' I said to my cousin.

'I'll see you soon John,' he said to me with a smile.

With that the four of them rode away out of the city. I watched them from the cities wall until they were nothing more than specs in the distance riding to Minas Tirith.

[1] Wat Tyler was the leader of the 1381 Peasants revolt.

AN: I hope you liked this chapter and please review, criticise and keep reading. Also, yes, two chapters in one day!

Review Response

Kiya: Thanks for continuing to review and I'm glad you're still enjoying it.


	10. Chapter 9 The White and ruined cities

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own anything to do with the Lord of the Rings

Chapter nine

The White and the ruined cities

For the next several chapters of this story I shall be following the events experienced by my uncle and cousin in Gondor.

It was a three day ride which was hard on all of the travellers. They had to ride hard and fast along The Great West Road and only stopped for a few hours each night. The journey was particularly hard on my uncle. He was in very good condition for a man of his years but he was old. On the early morning on the third day of riding the three horses galloped across a small stream named the Mering.

'Are we far away from Minas Tirith?' my uncle asked Gandalf when they crossed the stream.

'The stream we have just forded marks the border of Gondor. I'd say we are about ten miles away from our destination.'

'Excellent,' Rickard said loudly. 'A chance to sleep without twigs in my back.'

The others ignored him as they rode on but my uncle apparently looked relieved.

A few hours later they rode over a hill and then, my uncle and Rickard became the first Englishmen to see Minas Tirith. It was a majestic city made from white stone against the side of a mountain. The city was built in seven, one hundred foot high levels which were circular in shape. Going through the centre of the city was a rock face that split the city in two.

'Blimey,' Rickard said when he saw it.

'Incredible.'

'Minas Tirith,' Gandalf said proudly. 'The City of Kings.'

'Now why couldn't we build a city like that in England?' Rickard asked his father,

'There isn't a mountain in an important place to build one.'

'Well they could have built one in Cumbria to stop the Scots from coming down. There's plenty of mountains there. When I landed in Rohan I thought that's where I was.'

While Rickard said this my uncle was looking at the field in front of the city and then his eyes rested on the River Anduin, twenty miles from Minas Tirith. Around the river was a ruined city which spanned both sides of the river.

'What is that place?' my uncle asked the wizard.

'Osgiliath,' Gandalf answered. 'The Eastern Half of the City is controlled by Mordor while the west is held by the Gondor. Mordor's attack will most likely come from there.'

'And if Osgiliath falls Minas Tirith will be open to attack,' my uncle assumed.

'That is correct.'

'What about those mountains?' Rickard asked him.

The mountains, standing tall, brooding and dark over the surroundings, lay to the east of Osgiliath. The mountains stretched on for miles and were darker thanks to the sky above them. The sky was a thick black cloud which sucked in all the sunlight leaving nothing but darkness. But there was more than black. There was a deep orange red in it, as if from a giant smiths forge.

'Mordor,' Gandalf answered. 'Gondor lives under the shadow of Sauron.'

At that the four of them then rode towards the White City.

The entrance to the city was a massive gate made from iron and steel known as The Great Gate. The gate was adorned with images of soldiers and warriors. When they reached the gate they remained closed as one of the sentries looked down on the four travellers.

'Speak. Identify yourselves.'

'It is I, Gandalf the White and I have come to speak with the Steward,' the wizard answered.

'And what are the names of your companions?'

'Riding with me is Peregrin Took of the Shire,' Gandalf told the sentry and then looked at his two companions.

'I am Sir James Harris of England,' my uncle told him. 'Knight of England and member of the war council of His Majesty King Richard the Third.'

'I'm Rickard Harris,' my cousin told the sentry. 'That man's son and holder of no titles apart from being known as the best drinker in the city of York.'

My uncle groaned and then shot a glare at his son.

'Mithrandir,' the sentry said to Gandalf, using the name that many knew him as, 'you and your companions shall enter the city and go to the Tower of Ecthelion.'

'Thank you soldier,' Gandalf said and then the gates opened.

The four of them raced through the city past Gondorian soldiers and civilians. My uncle assessed to soldiers as they rode past them. Each Gondorian soldier wore plate and mail armour and carried a large shield. Each mans helmet was slightly conical and had nose and cheek guards. On every shield and breast plate was the image of a white tree. Altogether they looked like the professional armies of Rome which he had read of. As they rode through the city every person in their path quickly got out of the way. Each level was packed with shops and houses squeezed together. As they rode up a level they passed through a wooden gate with a squad of soldiers stationed next to it. Eventually they reached the top level of the city, known as the Citadel. They left their mounts at the stables and walked into the Citadel which was built on top of the rock face which went through the city. Covering the Citadel was a courtyard of white stone in front of a massive towering structure known as The Tower of Ecthelion where the centre of power in Gondor was located. Standing in the centre of the courtyard was a white, leafless tree. It was twisted and dry, looking as if no rain had fallen upon it in centuries.

'Gandalf,' Pippin excitedly said to Gandalf, 'it's the tree. Gandalf.'

'Yes the white tree of Gondor,' Gandalf confirmed. 'The Tree of the King. Lord Denathor however is not the king. He is a Steward only. A caretaker of the throne.'

The group stopped at the bottom of the steps which led into the Tower of Ecthelion.

'Now listen to me,' Gandalf said to Pippin, 'Denathor is Boromir's father. It would be most unwise to give him news of his son's death. All of you make no mention of the Ring. Peregrin Took, it would be wise if you don't say a word at all.'

'That goes for you as well Rickard,' my uncle told his son.

'I'll do my best,' Rickard said with a smile and then they stepped into the Tower.

The inside of the tower was made from white marble with tall white pillars holding up the ceiling. Going along the length of the room were white statues of the King's of Old. At the very head of the room was a raised dais and upon it was a magnificent white throne. A throne which no man had occupied in millennia. Beneath of the throne, at the base of the dais, was a far simpler black throne in which sat Denathor. Denathor was an older man with long ragged gray hair and a short layer of stubble on his face. His weary eyes held years of fighting and struggle. Held in the Stewards hands was an ivory horn broken in half.

'Hail Denathor,' Gandalf said when the four of them approached the Steward, 'Son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor. I come with tidings in this dark hour, and with counsel.'

'Perhaps you come to explain this,' Denathor said wearily and then held the fragments of the horn up for Gandalf to see. My Uncle didn't understand what that meant but both Pippin and Gandalf did. Pippin looked at it with sorrow in his eyes. My family in that city didn't know that was the Horn of Gondor, carried by Boromir, the eldest Son of Denathor. 'Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead.'

'Boromir,' Pippin said to the Steward, ' died to save us, my kinsman and me.'

Pippin then stepped forwards and Gandalf tried to stop him.

'He fell defending us from many foes,' Pippin said as he knelt in front of the Steward. 'I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt.'

Both Gandalf and my uncle rolled their eyes while Rickard shook his head.

'Pippin,' my uncle said to him, 'get up and be quiet.'

Pippin stepped behind Gandalf while my uncle stepped forwards.

'My Lord,' my uncle started, 'I offer you my condolences for the loss of your son but I fear that soon many more will die. We have information that suggests that Mordor will soon attack this city.'

'War is coming,' Gandalf assured Denathor. 'The enemy is on your doorstep. As Steward you are charged with the defence of this city. Where are Gondor's armies? You still have friends. You are not alone in this fight.'

'England is behind you,' my uncle then said to the Steward. 'Seventy of my men will soon be riding to this city to aid you in war.'

'And not just England,' Gandalf took control again. 'Send word to Theoden of Rohan. Light the beacons.'

A smile slipped onto the Stewards lips which unnerved Rickard slightly.

'You think you are wise Mithrandir. Yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor but with your right you'd seek to supplant me. I know who rides with Theoden of Rohan. Oh, yes. Word has reached my ears of these "Englishmen" and where they come from and of Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. I tell you now, I will NEVER BOW TO THAT RANGER FROM THE NORTH! The last of a raged house long bereft of Lordship.'  
My uncle glared at the Steward while Gandalf angrily proclaimed,

'Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the King, Steward.'

Denathor then rose from his chair and spat back,

'Rule of Gondor's mine! And no others.'

'And if you do not ask Theoden to help you there won't be a Gondor for you to rule,' Rickard told him.

'My son is right. Do you want to be remembered as Denathor, the man who's pride allowed Gondor to fall?'

'Do you seek to die, soldier?' Denathor asked my uncle.

'No, but if Middle Earth falls to Mordor then my home will be destroyed also. I will not allow that to happen, even of my death is required for that.'

The Steward sank back down into his chair and looked at my uncle.

'And is your son prepared to die with you?'

'Yes,' my uncle answered for Rickard.

'Then I may find use for you. You have served in war have you not?'

'That is correct.'

'Then you shall go to Osgiliath,' the Steward told my two relatives. 'There you shall report to Captain Faramir, my remaining son.'

'When will you have us go?'

'By sunset.'

'I understand. When the remainder of my men arrive can they be instructed to go to Osgiliath also?'

'Yes.'

'We shall go there as soon as we can.'

A few hours later, after eating a small meal, my cousin and uncle walked to the stables where their horses were being kept.

'Father,' Rickard said to my uncle, 'was I the only one who got the sense that the Steward wasn't completely sane?'

'You weren't,' my uncle told him. 'If Denathor doesn't light the beacons then the only help he shall receive will be from fifty knights, twenty men-at-arms and one old priest.'

'It could be worse,' Rickard reminded him as they climbed onto their horses.

'Not by much. The positive is that by fighting at Osgiliath we may gain the Stewards trust even though I doubt that's why he wants us to go there.'

'Why do you think he wants us there then?'

'To get us out of the way,' he answered. 'By removing us he's removing two of Gandalf's allies.'

'But I thought we were here to pave the way for the rest of the men arriving.'

'We were but he knows, somehow, of where we come from so he probably knows we're not spies. Now our mission is to gain trust and the best way to do that is to fight for his country.'

'Then let's go and kick some Orc up its backside,' Rickard said and then the two of them quickly rode down through the city and towards Osgiliath.

The distance from Minas Tirith to Osgiliath is roughly twenty miles but on their destrier warhorses they made the journey in less than an hour. Osgiliath was once the capital of Gondor centuries ago but war had levelled the city to ruins. Empty shells remained of houses and rubble littered the streets. The once noble statues of brave warriors were no more than brooding echoes of the glory Gondor once had when a king sat on his throne in the White City. That is what my relative encountered when they entered the city. The rear of the city had been made into a field hospital for the soldiers wounded in the fighting. Dozens of men hobbled on crutches and lay down on sheets being treated for the injuries they had suffered. Some of the soldiers there were not injured but were resting after days at the front. Most were wearing the same armour of the soldiers in Minas Tirith, although many suits of armour were dented and scratched. Some though wore leather and mail, looking like scouts or skirmishers.

'Who goes there?' a Gondorian soldier armed with a spear confronted my uncle and cousin.

'James Harris,' my uncle answered. 'The Steward has sent my son and I to aid the fight here.'

'Why would my father send you here?' asked a new voice.

The question came from a soldier with dark hair and a short beard. He was young, not even thirty by look of him, and wore leather armour and a green cloak.

'Captain Faramir I presume?' my uncle asked and the soldier nodded. 'My son and I have been sent by the Steward to assist in the fight here and report to you. The rest of my men will be arriving in a few days.'

'Good,' Faramir said as he walked towards my uncle and cousin. 'Any help is welcome.'

'Where will you need us?'

Faramir thought about it for a minute until he decided.

'You will stay with me and my company. Do you have any armour?'

'We do.'

'Then get ready. We move to the front tonight.'

It was late at night. My uncle, Rickard and the rest of Faramir's company had spent a few hours patrolling a section of the riverbank but it was a quiet night. However, instead of feeling relief at this the men felt uneasy. This was the calm before the storm. Osgiliath was the safest place to cross the Anduin for miles up and down river thanks to its bridge. However, the centre of the bridge had been destroyed to prevent the Orc's from crossing. Everyone believed that Mordor's assault would come from across the river in boats so that was where most of the troops were located. So far that night there had been nothing and Faramir had led his company back to their barracks located in a mostly intact building when it happened. From the other side of the mountains around Mordor a blinding sinister green light launched into the sky.

My uncle and Rickard were outside the building when it happened.

'What on Earth?' my uncle shouted.

Faramir rushed out and took one look at the light.

'To the river!' he shouted back at his men.

'What does the light mean?' Rickard asked the Captain.

'It's a signal to Sauron's forces on the other side of the river,' he answered. 'They're about to launch their attack.'

Dozens of men poured out of the barracks and into the ruined city, rushing towards the river. My uncle and cousin looked at each other. They were still wearing their armour and their weapons were ready.

'Here we go again,' Rickard said and then pulled down his helmets visor before they both joined in the rush to the river.

AN: Two chapters in one day. A special treat because all of you are brilliant people! I hope you enjoy them.

Also, I forgot to mention this last week but this story past a thousand views. I'm happy because of this so take a minute to rock out to "Into the West" and if someone reading this doesn't know what this song is then go and listen to it right now!


	11. Chapter 10 The Fall of Denethor

The Strangers in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Ten

The Fall of Denethor

Rickard and my uncle stood hiding behind a crumbling section of the wall near the river. They could hear the sound of the Orc's in their boats rowing towards the shore. Hundreds of men were waiting for them in silence, praying that they would survive the battle. They had been ordered to remain silent. The plan was to ambush the Orc's and push them back into the river.

'How many do you reckon we're facing?' Rickard asked his father in a whisper.

'Too many. We'll be overwhelmed.'

'That's positive.'

CRASH!

They heard the Orc boats hit the shore and the ramps on the boats fronts went down so the Orc's inside could charge straight into the battle. Hundreds of armoured footsteps running forwards filled the air as the Orc's advanced. They ran straight past my uncle and cousin. The Orc's were different from the Uruk-hai we faced at Helm's Deep. They were smaller, less muscular but they were more numerous and just as savage. Their equipment was shoddy, badly built and rusting. Their armour cobbled together and decorated with bones. The sound of a sword swinging filled the air and then the battle began. My uncle closed the visor on his helmet and charged forwards.

'SAINT GEORGE!' They both roared.

With one swing he sliced an Orc in half from the shoulder to the groin. Black blood squirted from the beast covering my uncle's armour in gore. An Orc armed with a spiked club charged my uncle but was impaled on his sword.

Rickard stayed close to his father in the early part of the battle, cutting open an Orc's throat and then stabbing another through its ribs. An Orc with an axe swung at my cousin but it was dodged and the Orc was kicked in the knee breaking the joint. The Orc fell to the ground and my cousin finished it off with a foot to the head. More and more Orc boats landed disgorging more and more of Sauron's soldiers. Through weight of numbers the Orc's pushed the sons of Gondor back away from the river and my uncle and cousin were separated.

...

My uncle stood in a line with twenty Gondorian soldiers in a wide street. The line was only one rank deep but it was the best defence they could organise. Streaming towards them was a tidal wave of Orc's. It was still dark but the sun would rise soon. The Orc's crashed in the Gondorian line and chaos broke out. Men were thrown to the ground and impaled on spears while my uncle stood and hacked Orc's in half. One Orc swung an axe at him But my uncle blocked it with his sword and then sliced the Orc across its chest. Then he swung his sword down slicing an Orc straight down to its stomach. With great effort he heaved his sword out in time to slice off an Orc's head.

'Retreat!' one of the Gondorian soldiers shouted.

'NO!' my uncle shouted and the remaining eight soldiers stopped. 'I am seventy seven! If I can fight while you young men run than what does that say of Gondor?'

My uncle then charged straight into the heat of the battle slicing apart Orc after Orc. The Gondorian soldiers followed him holding back the Orc's but there was just too many.

Rickard, a few streets away, stood on top of a slope of rubble with a group of soldiers. Orc's were charging up towards them. The Gondorian's raised their shields and lowered their spears. The Orc's crashed into the Gondorian's and Rickard. My cousin blocked a sword blow with his shield and then stabbed the Orc that attacked him. Rickard then kicked another between its legs and stabbed down into its collar bone. With another swing of his blade Rickard killed another Orc and then one armed with a flail swung its weapon into Rickard's chest. Rickard was knocked to the ground and dropped his sword as he fell. The Orc then prepared to swing its weapon into my cousin's head. At the last moment Rickard rolled over, grabbed the first thing he could find to use as a weapon, and then stood up. He looked at his hand and saw that he had picked up a rock. It was ten inches long and had a blunt tip to it. As quickly as he could, Rickard slammed his shield into the Orc with the flail which sent the demon staggering backwards. Then Rickard jabbed the tip of the rock into the Orc's eye. The beast screamed in pain as it covered its bleeding eye. Finally Rickard got the Orc into a neck lock and snapped its neck. He looked for his sword but it had vanished amongst the tide of Orc. Rickard decided to pull back like the rest of the soldiers around him were doing. He reached the top of the rubble slope and he was about to run when out of the corner of his eye he saw something. He looked towards the bridge. The Orc's had repaired it. Thousands of Orc's were pouring over the bridge into the city.

'God help us,' Rickard said under his breath and then started running again.

My uncle fought valiantly against the Orc's. His sword was black with Orc blood and his armour was splattered with it. He leaned against a statue of a soldier on a horse catching his breath. Twenty feet away from him a company of soldiers stood two ranks deep behind a barricade of stone, waiting for the Orc's to come. A few men armed with bows climbed into nearby buildings to fire on the enemy while the infantry formed a wall of shields.

'TROLL!' someone shouted.

My uncle looked up and saw a troll advancing on the barricade. The troll was twelve feet tall, muscular, covered with scaly, gray skin and carried a massive war hammer. It roared as it charged forwards and the men braced themselves. Behind the troll dozens of Orc's were rushing forwards. The archers launched their arrows at the troll but they did nothing to stop it. It smashed the barricade apart throwing five men through the air. The Orc's swarmed over the barricade, pinning men against walls and stabbing them, pushing them to the ground and hacking them to pieces. The troll looked at the building which the archers were in and then advanced on it, brandishing its hammer, and with one massive swing smashed apart the wall the archers were taking refuge behind, killing the poor men inside. My uncle advanced towards the troll and drew his sword. With a burst of speed my uncle charged the Troll and with a massive swing cut into its leg. The momentum of the sword sliced through the muscle and flesh and cracked the bone. The Troll roared and looked down at my uncle just as he pulled his sword out of the Trolls leg. Quickly, my Uncle attacked again, this time hacking at the beasts thigh. The Troll raised its weapon and swung down, cracking the pavement, but my uncle dodged it. An Orc swung its sword at my Uncle but the blow just bounced off of his armour. With a swipe my uncle killed the Orc and then attacked the Troll again. He knew that he had to get at its organs to kill it. He raised his sword, aimed its tip at the Trolls belly and stabbed straight into the Troll, cutting straight into the Trolls heart. The Troll fell dead and toppled backwards, flattening three Orc's.  
When the Orc's saw the Troll fall dead they ran away but they would be back soon. My uncle turned around to see fifteen Gondorian soldiers in the street behind him.

'We're cut off!' one of them shouted.

'We're all going to die!' another shouted.

'SHUT UP!' my uncle yelled at them and they were silent. 'Which of you is in charge?' my uncle asked as he pushed up his visor.

They were silent and looked at each other for a few moments.

'None of us,' one answered. 'We're all just men-at-arms.'

'Well I'm in charge now,' my uncle told them. 'Do we know where the nearest group of men are?'

They shook their heads and my uncle sighed.

'Let's just head west and we're bound to meet up with the rest of the men,' my uncle ordered. 'Follow me.'

My uncle ran west with the men behind him. They ran through a ruined street where they saw dozens of Orc's ready for battle. My uncle raised his sword high and sliced into them.

Rickard swung his mace, caving in an Orc's skull. His next fight began when an Orc with a sledge hammer swung its weapon into the side of Rickard's helmet. The blow concussed my cousin as he staggered backwards. His helmet had been dented and the visor had broken, falling away from his helmet. All Rickard could see was a blur, he felt dizzy and he vomited a stream of foul smelling liquid onto the ground. Getting his senses back together Rickard turned in time to see the Orc with the hammer getting ready to finish him. My cousin was about to block the blow with his shield but he saw the tip of a sword burst out of the Orc's chest. The Orc fell dead revealing Faramir holding his sword.

'Thanks,' Rickard said to the son of Denathor.

'You're welcome.'

Rickard pulled off his now broken helmet and threw it on the ground. The side of his head hurt and he could feel blood flowing down the side of his head.

'Come with me!' Faramir shouted as more Orc's stormed towards them.

The two of them ran through the ruined streets and through an archway where they saw a group of archers waiting.

'Faramir!' the oldest of them shouted and then Faramir pulled Rickard out of the archers line of fire as they cut down the Orc's storming through the arch behind them.

'We can't hold them,' the older archer told Faramir. 'The city is lost.'

'RICKARD!'

My cousin saw my uncle hurrying towards him with twelve bloodied men behind him.

'Father; I think we might lose this battle.'

The two embraced each other for a second until a screech filled the air. It came from the sky. They looked up and they saw it. For the first time in history Englishmen looked upon the Ring Wraiths.

'NAZGUL!' someone shouted.

The screeches deafened the men, breaking their morale as if it were nought but twigs.

'There is no God,' Rickard said, even his spirits couldn't survive the Wraiths.

The three slaves to darkness dove out of the sky upon Fell Beasts. Flying reptiles with black scales, claws like swords, teeth like daggers. Their wings carried them over the city and upon each one sat a Wraith. Covered from head to foot in long, black robes they were the pure essence of terror and darkness. The swooped down, the Beasts grabbing men and throwing them into the air. Clutching men in the jaws and ripping them apart.

'FALL BACK!' Faramir shouted over the noise of the battle. 'Fall back to Minas Tirith!'

My uncle and cousin looked at each other before hurrying to where the horses were kept. Every soldier was racing to get out of the city. It was no longer a battle. It was a rout. Hundreds were cut down by the Orc's as they ran while many were thrown aside by their own men in the rush to get away. My uncle climbed onto his horse and waited until he saw Rickard climb onto his own before he kicked his horse into a gallop. Rickard was about to follow when he saw a soldier staggering close by. He was clutching the bloody stump on his wrist where his hand once was. Rickard rode towards the man and pulled him up behind him.

'Hang on,' Rickard barked as Orc's poured towards them and my cousin commanded his horse to move forwards.

With Orc's directly behind them they survivors of the battle, some on foot and some mounted, hurried away from the Orc infested city as fast as they could. Rickard looked back at the city and saw that the Orc's weren't following. He smiles a little as he thought that the worst was behind them. Then the screech came. Rickard looked up and saw the three Wraiths circling above them like carrion birds. Rickard felt the man behind him slouch so, with one hand, Rickard grabbed the man's arm and kept a hold of him as the Wraiths began their attack. They swooped down, picking up horse and rider and lifting them high into the air before dropping them. One of them came straight at Rickard but he managed to swerve out of the way in time. Others weren't so lucky. They were being torn apart with no cover to hide them.

My uncle was near the head of the surviving force. He kept his eyes focused on Minas Tirith ahead of them. Each second that past they were getting closer. Each second that past a soldier died because of the Wraiths. They were halfway across the space between Osgiliath and Minas Tirith, called Pelannor Fields, when the gates opened and out came a white horse. Gandalf. He galloped towards them and then raised his staff above his head. A flash of pure, white, brilliant, heavenly light blasted from the head of his staff and a beam of white light shone towards the Wraiths. The light stopped them. It burned them. The Wraiths commanded their Fell Beasts to return to Mordor. From there on it was easy.

They rode through the Great Gates and into the courtyard behind where the wounded were taken to The Houses of Healing.

'Mithrandir,' Faramir said to Gandalf, who had Pippin with him. 'They broke through our defences. They've taken the bridge and the west bank.'

'And the Orc's now have a direct path to attack us here,' my uncle added. 'If the beacons are not lit soon we will be doomed.'

'The beacons have been lit,' Gandalf informed my uncle.

'Battalions of Orc's are crossing the river,' Faramir continued.

'It is as the Lord Denathor predicted,' one of Denathor's men announced. 'Long has he foreseen this doom.'

'And has done a pig's arse to stop it from happening!' Rickard shouted as he helped the wounded soldier off of his horse and passed him to another man to carry to a stretcher.  
My uncle climbed off of his horse and walked to Rickard.

'Son,' he said to him, 'you must never speak of an important leader like that where all can hear you.'

'Everyone was thinking it, I just said it.'

'I know. But you're expected to act with dignity and respect for a host.'

'I'm sorry father.'

'Just don't do it again. The beacons have been lit. Now we need to hope that Rohan will help.'

'And we need to hope that we will last long enough for Rohan to arrive.'

'I was worried about that myself. Rickard, can we agree to do whatever it takes to prevent this city from falling?'

'Of course,' my cousin responded and a grin crept onto his face. 'What's the plan?'

'Something reckless.'

...

A little over an hour later my uncle stood with Rickard in the Tower of Ecthelion. They had been summoned there by Denathor because of my Uncle's experience in war and, as Rickard was officially my uncle's guard, he was there as well. However, my uncle suspected he had been summoned there as a display of the Stewards power. Sitting in his chair was Denathor while kneeling before him was Pippin. Standing a little further away was Faramir, still dressed in the uniform he wore in Osgiliath.

'Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor,' Pippin recited, 'in peace or war, in living or dying, from,' he paused for a moment, trying to remember the words he had to recite while Denathor looked down at him in amusement. 'From this hour henceforth, until my lord release me or,' Pippin halted as he considered what he was saying, 'or death takes me.'

'And I shall not forget it,' Denathor said as he rose from his chair, 'nor fail to reward that which is given.'

He then moved his hand close to Pippins face and the Hobbit kissed the ring on Denathor's finger.

'Fealty with love,' Denathor began as he walked to a table and chair nearby. 'Valour with honour. Disloyalty with vengeance,' the Steward then sat at his table and helped himself to the food on the table which was being served for him. 'I do not think we should so lightly abandon the outer defences,' he said to Faramir, 'defences that your brother long held intact.'

'What would you have me do?' Faramir asked his father.

'I will not yield the river in Pelannor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken.'

My uncle and cousin looked at each other in shock at what the Steward had just suggested.

'No offence My Lord,' my uncle said as he stepped forwards, 'but any attempt to retake Osgiliath would need thousands of men. You don't have that manpower.'

'The city is overrun,' Faramir assured his father.

'Much must be risked in war,' the Steward stated. 'Is there not a captain here who still has the courage to do his lords will?' he asked to all but the question was directed at Faramir.

'All of your captains have the courage to do your will,' my uncle said loudly so all in the room could hear him, he also walked confidently towards Denethor, 'when their lords will makes sense.'

'Mind your tong Englishman.'

Faramir, his face broken with sorrow then said.

'You wish now that our places had been exchanged? That I had died and Boromir had lived?'

'Yes. I wish that,' the Steward of Gondor said to Captain Faramir.

'Since you were robbed of Boromir,' Faramir began, trying to hold back tears, 'I will do what I can in his stead.'

Faramir then bowed and turned to leave when Rickard stepped in front of him.  
'Wait here for a minute,' Rickard told the captain as my uncle stepped towards the Steward.

'Lord Denathor,' my uncle began, 'I have tried to be as diplomatic as I can but now I must speak bluntly. You will not order your son to lead a suicide mission into Osgiliath.'

Denathor chuckled at my uncle as he chewed on a bit of meat. 'You have no power to speak to me with any authority Englishman.'

'Listen to me Denathor. You are not fit to lead the defence of this city. I'm relieving you of command.'

Everyone's jaw dropped. The tension in the room was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. My cousin looked around him and saw that a few of the members of the Citadel Guard stood ready to draw their swords.

'By what right do you even think of doing this?' Denathor asked as he stood up, anger in every word.

'By the right to defend Christendom.'

'And how do you plan to succeed with this coup. One old man and a boy against the elite forces of Gondor. Not much of an army.'

'Father,' Rickard nervously said to my uncle, 'he has a point.'

'Captain Faramir,' my uncle said to the Gondorian while not taking his eyes off of Denathor, 'tell me where your loyalties lie. With your country or your father? Soldiers of Gondor,' he then looked at the Citadel Guard, 'do your oaths of loyalty make it fine for you to stand by while a madman will bring ruin to this land? If they do,' my uncle said and spread out his arms, 'you may run me through with your swords. Your conscience will remain unbroken, while your lives are cut down.'

Faramir looked between my uncle and the Steward. His decision would decide the fate of Middle Earth. Faramir walked towards the Steward slowly and then stood next to him. The Citadel Guard took their hands away from their sword and got ready to do something they thought they would never do.

'I'm sorry father,' he said to Denathor, 'but he's right. Guards,' Faramir said to the soldiers in the room, 'please escort my father to his chambers. He is feeling unwell.'

After a few seconds of hesitation they followed the orders of Faramir and took Denathor away. The Steward was silent. He was too shocked to do anything apart from remain silent. Everyone was silent for what felt like an eternity to Rickard. Eventually he broke the silence.

'Well, is anyone going to finish that meal?'

'Master Harris,' Faramir said to my uncle, 'what do you plan to do?'

'Call a council of war,' my uncle ordered. 'Every high ranking officer and nobleman in the city will meet here in one hour. We have much to do.'

'What would you have me tell them?'

'Tell them that the new commander of this city needs to see them.'

A munching sound drew the attention of Faramir and my uncle to the table where Rickard and Pippin were eating some of the food.

'What?' Rickard asked. 'You shouldn't waste food.'


	12. Chapter 11 Waiting for the Flame

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own a single damned right to Lord of the Rings but if I did I would give Arwen something to do apart from nearly die and make Haldir live.

Chapter Eleven

Waiting for the flame

Since my uncle and Rickard had left Edoras the Council of England had made a few decisions such as commissioning a cross of Saint George standard that we would carry into battle. Slowly time went by and we eagerly waited for the day when we would ride to Minas Tirith and battle.

It was the night of the fourth day of waiting. We were due to leave the next morning and we were all eager to go. Markus, myself and Jason Bridge were leaving the Inn and were heading to where each of us slept. Jason and Markus in their tents outside the city and me at Sunniva's house.

'Well I don't know about you two but these Rohan lot make a good ale,' Jason declared.

'Yes they certainly do Jason,' I agreed with him. I then asked Markus, 'When will our flag be ready?'

'They said that it will be finished by tomorrow morning,' my cousin answered. 'I'm worried about how far our collective funds will keep us going though.'

'I thought that merchant fella who came through with us will be paying for that damned Saint George flag you and the rest of the council wanted made.'

'Jason,' Markus addressed the old soldier, 'I do not like the idea of relying on Edmund the merchant who's only purpose for living is fame and wealth. I overheard him the other day speaking with some of the locals about buying land in Rohan.'

'Well it looks like one of us isn't worried about not going home,' I told them both.

'Well I don't think you're worried about not going home,' Markus said with a slight smirk.  
I rolled my eyes at him while Jason laughed.

'Will you stop going on about that?' I asked my cousin.

'No. I'm taking every opportunity I get to make cheap jokes at your expense.'

'When did you turn into your brother?' I sarcastically asked him.

'I haven't but even I enjoy a joke now and again and what you did while you were drunk at the party.'

Jason barked out a laugh at the memory of the party.

'You two, for the final time, I was drunk and danced with Sunniva and kissed her in a drunk stupor. That was all. If I'd been sober it wouldn't have happened.'

Markus let out a sigh before saying, 'If you say so.'  
I rolled my eyes and kept silent.

'How many Orc's are you two planning to kill?' Jason asked us.

'I'm not sure,' I answered. 'I'll just try to leave some for you two.'

'Is that a challenge?' Markus asked me.

'Perhaps it is,' I answered.

'Then I accept your challenge John and I look forward to killing twice as many Orc's as you.'

'Count me in you two,' Jason agreed. 'I'll put me bill'ook to good use.'

'Well I can promise the both of you that Alaric will do plenty of work,' I told them with a smile as I patted the sword which was always at my side.

'We'll see cousin,' Markus joked. 'We'll see.'

We came to Sunniva's house just then. Through the small window I could see a light from candles.

'I'll see you two in the morning,' I said to them.

'See ya in the morning Harris,' Jason said and then walked on.

'I'll see you tomorrow morning for breakfast in the Inn,' Markus said and then walked off.

I stepped into Sunniva's house to the smell of stew being cooked. Sunniva was sitting by the hearth stirring a pot of thick stew, thankfully for me, and I do hope that she will forgive me for writing this, Sunniva was far better at cooking than Lady Eowyn. When I stepped in she looked up at me and gave me a small smile.

'How are you John?' she asked me.

'I'm fine thanks. What about you?'

'Same as ever. Cenric isn't with us tonight though.'

'Why not?' I asked her.

'He said he was staying at a friend's house tonight. I'm not sure why.'

'Well when I was his age Rickard and I would go into Markus's room and have some fun with food we stole from the kitchens.'

'Were you allowed to?' Sunniva asked me.

'Not really but I think my uncle turned a blind eye to it.'

'Good for him. How was your cousin Markus?'

'Same as ever. He's still reminding me about the party,' I told her.

Sunniva rolled her eyes. 'To be honest I'm surprised your cousin can remember it. Everyone was completely drunk there.'

'Not really. My uncle, the king and Gandalf were sober. That said, even Father Harold was a bit unsteady on his feet for a while.'

'That reminds me John, why do you all call Harold "Father"? Even some of your company older than him call him "Father".'

'We have a reason,' I answered. 'You see, we believe that there is one god who is Father to all of us. Harold is a Priest, basically making him a representative of God and the religious father to a community so we call all priests Father.'

'I see,' she said and then rose from her chair. 'Can you get the bowls out?'

'Of course.'

I got two wooden bowls and two wooden spoons out of the cupboard and put them on the table. Sunniva filled each bowl with stew and we started to eat.

'I wish I knew why you and the rest of the English Company are so determined to ride out when you have no hope,' Sunniva eventually said to me.

'We're riding out for the same reason I fought at Helm's Deep,' I told her. 'Because it's right and there are always miracles.'

'I hope you're right. About miracles.'

'We had a miracle at Helm's Deep,' I reminded her. 'Well, that and a lot of luck.'

'I suppose so. You and the others have more to fight for now than you used to.'

'Well, knowing that an evil lunatic wants to destroy your home can drive men to do things that we'd always call reckless.'

'Just don't get carried away with being reckless,' she said and arched her eyebrow. 'If you do I'll kill you.'

'In that case I'll stay as far away as I can from Edoras,' I joked.

'I hope not. I'm actually used to you being here now. I might just be sorry to see you go.'

'Well I'll try to come back as often as I can then.'

'Good.'

A while after that Sunniva was getting ready for bed while I packed my few possessions. I only had one set of clothes, two cloaks, my armour, weapons and a few coins. Markus was right, our funds wouldn't last much longer. _Maybe I could become a mercenary,_ I thought to myself. It would definitely solve my money problem. When I was finished packing I blew out the last candle and climbed onto my bedroll. I hadn't slept in a real bed in weeks but I was starting to get used to it.

'Goodnight John,' I heard Sunniva say from her bed.

'Goodnight,' I responded and then I drifted off to sleep.

My eyes opened and I sat up. Looking out of the window I saw that it was still dark. I must have only been asleep for an hour or two. I tried to get back to sleep when I heard something. It sounded like a panting. Looking around the room my eyes came to Sunniva's bed. She was turning beneath her sheets and breathing heavily.

'Are you alright?' I asked her but she didn't answer.

She was still asleep and kept twisting in her bed like a wounded animal. I felt worried so I got up and walked towards her.

'Sunniva are you alright?' I asked as I nudged her.

Instead of answering me she kept twisting in her bed. As my eyes properly adjusted to the darkness I saw that her forehead was dotted with beads of sweat. I patted her on the arm to wake her up but instead she kept shaking and twisting until her eyes snapped open and she threw herself. Trying to calm down she grabbed my hand and sighed.

'Are you alright?' I asked her.

'Yes. It was just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. A nightmare.'

'Do you want to talk about it?'

'Yes. It was my dad,' she told me, her voice barely above a whisper, 'I saw him dying in the Warg attack.'

In the low light I saw a tear trickle down her face and her grip on my hand tightened.

'I never want to see that again,' she whispered to me. 'Never.'

'Sunniva,' I whispered, 'it was just a dream. You can't spend forever resting on dreams.'

'But I can't forget the dream and I can't forget my dad. He's dead and gone forever,' that was when she broke. With her free hand she grabbed her sheets, pushed them into her face and started to sob.

While she wept I remained silent. Looking back I remembered how I was when my own father died. I put up a strong face when I was with other people but alone I wept. I realized that was what Sunniva had been doing. She had been keeping up a strong face for her brother all this time. I put my arm around her to comfort her and I waited until she stopped crying. When she took the sheets away from her face her eyes were puffy and red, like they were when I first met her at Helm's Deep.

'You will see him again,' I softly told her. 'Your father and your mother.'

'What do you mean?' she asked me, daring to let hope onto her face.

'Remember what I told you earlier about God?'

'Yes I remember.'

'Well, not only do we believe that he is Father to us all but we believe his is a King and his kingdom is named Heaven. When we die our souls will go to his kingdom and live there in peace for all eternity. When my father was killed and my mother died the comfort I had was knowing I would see them again in Heaven.'

She looked at me for a few moments which felt like hours. She was silent and then turned her face away from me.

'That sounds nice,' she quietly said to me. 'Do you truly believe that?'

'All my life,' I told her. 'In my darkest moments I have turned to God to give me strength.'

'How do you know it's true though?'

'I don't need to know. I only need to believe.'

We looked at each other again and said nothing. I felt her grip on my hand slacken and I took my arm off of her.

'I think I'll try to get back to sleep now,' she said and rubbed her eyes with her hand.

'Are you sure you're alright?' I asked her.

'Yes I'm fine,' she answered. 'Good night again.'

'Good night again,' I repeated and then I went back to my bedroll and we both slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

Early the next morning I woke up and climbed up out of my bedroll. Sunnvia was sleeping peacefully, thank God. Not wanting to wake her I quietly got dressed and put the blankets of my bedroll away in the cupboard.

'Getting ready to go?' Sunniva, who had only just woken up, asked me.

I turned to face her. She was sitting up in bed and looked better than she did when she woke up in the night. Her eyes had returned to their normal blue instead of the painful red.

'I'm afraid so,' I answered. 'I have to get everything ready by midday.'

'Do you need some help getting ready?'

'No thanks.'

'Alright then. I'm going to get dressed.'

Understanding what she meant I stepped outside wearing my Rohirric cloak I wore at Helm's Deep and had Alaric hanging from my belt. Markus and I had a breakfast of porridge and honey at the Inn before we had to have a meeting of the Council of England in the Golden Hall. I sat at the table in the Hall with the other four members of the Council. The point of the meeting was to finalise all of our expenses in Edoras. Father Harold was working on the calculations while Markus read out the number of prices.

'Add to that the cost of one hundred and five mugs of beer and twenty mugs of mead, that have so far not been paid for, which comes to nineteen silver pieces.'

'Do you want me to catch the Rob here when he falls after you read the amount of money?' Jason asked as he smoked on a pipe.

'We're not finished,' Markus said and the rest of us groaned. 'Lastly is the cost of six courser horses and twenty four horse shoes which comes to a total of one gold piece.'

'Get ready to catch him Jason,' I said to the old soldier.

Father Harold hissed through clenched teeth when he finished the last sum.

'We owe the city of Edoras four pounds and two shillings.'

'How large is our treasury?' I asked Robert.

'Eighty five pounds and two pence,' he answered. 'It's not too bad but we need to find a source of income soon.'

'Well I've spent 'alf me life fighting for whoever pays me the most,' Jason told us.

'We will not become mere mercenaries,' Robert told him. 'Our duty here is to defend our world and our faith. Our best chance is to gain land here.'

'Or we could try going home,' Jason suggested. 'If this Sauron fella knows how to get to England then I say we beat it out of him.'

'No offence Jason but trying to beat anything out of Sauron will kill you,' Aragorn, who was passing us, told Jason.

'I've been trying to get meself killed for years Arag'n. It'll take a lot more than a lunatic with a stupid name to kill me.'

Aragorn shook his head as he left the Golden Hall.

'Where's he going?' I asked Markus.

'He's keeping an eye open for the beacon,' my cousin told me before addressing the rest of the Council. 'Who's giving His Majesty the money?'

'I will,' Robert volunteered himself. 'Father Harold, can you count out the money?'

'Of course Robert,' Father Harold said as he placed the chest containing our treasury on the table.

Our treasury was made up of money which all of us had to contribute to. We each had to donate half of our money to the Treasury. By the time Father Harold had counted out all of the money Markus and I were getting ready to go to the stables to get our horses ready.

'I can't wait for some action at last,' I said to Markus.

Just as I said that the doors of the Hall were thrown open by Aragorn who then ran in.

'THE BEACONS OF MINAS TIRITH!' he shouted. 'THE BEACONS ARE LIT! Gondor calls for aid.'

Everyone in the Hall froze. Suddenly all eyes turned towards Theoden who was speaking with Father Harold. We all knew that the fate of both worlds would hinge on his decision.

'And Rohan will answer,' Theoden declared. 'Muster the Rohirrim!'

'John, Markus,' Robert said to us. 'I need the two of you to get all of our men ready to ride within the hour!'

'We understand,' I told him.

Markus and I hurried out of the Hall and then hurried to alert the rest of the company. I started at the Inn. I ran in there where about ten English were having breakfast.

'The English Company rides within the hour!' I shouted. 'The beacons have been lit! Spread the word!'

At that the English dropped what they were doing and ran for the door. As I hurried through Edoras bells started to ring and every soldier in the city was getting ready to ride out. At last I reached Sunniva's house where I had to get my supplies. I hurried in the find Sunniva and Cenric.

'Is it true?' Cenric asked me. 'Are they riding out to war?'

'We are,' I answered as I threw my pack on over my back.

'Can I come?' he asked.

'You're staying here with me,' Sunniva told her brother. 'I don't want to see you going out to battle until your old enough.'

'Ah,' Cenric pouted. 'I've been in battle before.'

'I remember,' Sunniva and I said at the same time.

I picked up my poleaxe, which I recovered after Helm's Deep, and got ready to leave.

'Goodbye Cenric,' I said to the boy and then I looked at his sister. 'Bye Sunniva.'

'Bye John. And good luck.'

'I'll see you soon,' I said to her.

I was about to leave when Sunniva stopped me.

'Keep safe John,' she said and then leaned forwards. I froze when she planted a kiss on my cheek.

'Thank you, I mean, I'll try to keep myself safe. Goodbye.'

I left the house and walked to the stables. The city was now crowded with soldiers who were getting ready to leave the city. I found Julius where I left him in the stables. Once I walked in he impatiently stomped his hooves.

'Calm down Julius, calm down. We're going off to war now.'

I put on his saddle and reigns then climbed onto him. We rode out into the streets where I found my cousin on his horse next to Father Harold on his ambler horse.

'Here we go again,' I said to Markus. When I saw that most of the English company was roughly where we were I asked Markus, 'What are we waiting for?'

'I don't know. Apparently Robert asked us all to wait here for something.'

'I hope it's important,' I commented.

'Don't worry John, I'm sure it will be important,' Father Harold assured me as we heard a cheering.

'What's that?' I asked myself and then I saw them.

Robert, on his white horse was riding towards us followed by Jason on his horse. Jason though was carrying our Saint George Standard. It fluttered in the wind showing the red cross on the white background for all to see. When we saw it we cheered as well.

'Now Englishmen!' Robert shouted so all of our company could hear him. 'We rode out not to fight for a king or a noble house! Now we fight for all of England and all of Christendom!'

We cheered again, pride filling our hearts.

'Ride out in the name of the Lord!'

We cheered one final time as we, with the riders of Rohan rode through the streets of Edoras. We passed Sunniva's house where I saw her and Cenric standing waving at us. I smiled and waved as I rode past and then we left Edoras behind and ahead of us was war.

AN: Sorry for how long it took to update. I've had a lot of stuff to do. By the way I've started college so updates may be a little less frequent.

Also I apologise for how much rambling I did here. It went a little longer than I intended it to go.

Review responses:

Amateur Bacon Cook: Thank you for your review. I also regard reviews with useful criticism to be the best kind. Also, thanks for thinking that it's a good idea. Originally John Harris was going to be a British soldier from WW1.

On another note, I must repeat the request for a cover image from someone. If anyone can do a cover image of John Harris for me I would be most grateful.

Keep reviewing, keep reading

Have a nice day.


	13. Chapter 12 Gathering Forces

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Twelve

Gathering forces

When we left Edoras Theoden sent out riders to rally every man who could ride to Dunharrow. When the force from Edoras arrived there thousands of Rohirrim had already mustered there ready for battle. Hundreds of tents, wagons, carts, men and horses crammed into the valley of Dunharrow. Everywhere I looked all I could see was a sea of tents. I, along with the Council of England, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Theoden, Eomer, Eowyn and a force of the Kings Guards were riding through the centre of the camp.

'Have you ever seen such a force of cavalry?' Markus asked Robert.

'Never,' he answered. 'In all my years and my travels from England to Rome I have never seen such a large number of horsemen.'

'You've been to Rome?' I asked him.

'Yes I have on a pilgrimage with my father.'

'He's a lucky one that Robert is,' Jason said from his horse, still carrying the banner.

'How many do you think our numbers are?' I asked Markus.

My cousin looked around and thought it through his head.

'I'd say at least five thousand.'

'I do not claim to be an expert at war,' Father Harold entered the conversation, 'but I'm not sure if we have enough men.'

'We'll deal with that problem later,' Robert told the priest in a way which said that "this conversation is over."

We, as the leaders of the English Company, followed Theoden up a narrow path in a cliff wall to a space of flat ground next to another cliff wall with a path cut into it. That is where we set up our own camp. Soon large tents were erected for Theoden, his family, the Council and his guards while we all tied our horses reins to posts in the ground. After all the hard work was done I stood on the edge of the cliff looking over the army. More soldiers had arrived from across Rohan to join their kings army but I still didn't think it was enough. After a while I decided to return to the tent Markus and I were sharing where I found him cleaning his sword. The tent was large enough for two beds with some space to move around.

'Ready for the battle?' I asked him.

'Of course I am,' he answered. 'We've been training for war our entire lives. Why shouldn't we be ready for the battle?'

'I don't know about you but I'm ready for a long peace after this war is won,' I told him as I fell onto my bed and I sighed. It was good sleeping on something that wasn't Sunniva's floor.

'If this war is won,' he reminded me.

'I'm glad to see you're optimistic.'

'I'm realistic John. Even with this army it will either be total defeat or a sad victory.'

'I know but I'm hoping for the best.'

'Now you're the one turning into Rickard,' he said with a smile as he put his sword back into its sheath. 'Have you seen the quality of the men in our company? I mean the commoners.'

'Not really. What do you know about them?'

'Well there's that merchant who must have spent a fortune engraving his armour. There's Jason and his friend Anthony. Then there's a criminal in our ranks.'

'A criminal?'

'A man named Isaac Turner. He's spent his life conning people with weighted dice and cards hidden up his sleeves. He got barred from the Inn at Edoras for trying his tricks there.'

'What was he doing in the army then?'

'Apparently he was a camp follower and got caught in a portal by accident. He spent most of the money he had on a shirt of mail and a sword in Edoras.'

'A priest, some knights, a merchant and a conman,' I said to myself. 'Not much of a legendary company. Sounds more like the start of a joke.'

'Actually the best legends are about those who aren't suited to their mission,' he told me. 'Then again legends are just that. Legends.'

'Sadly they are.'

Unconsciously my hand rubbed my cheek as I thought about the battle to come. I didn't have any idea how large the garrison of Minas Tirith was and I didn't know what Rickard and my uncle were doing.

'Do you think they're alright?' I asked Markus.

'Who are you talking about?'

'Rickard and your father.'

'Of course they are,' Markus assured me. 'My father is a brilliant warrior for his age and Rickard, I'll give him credit here, is a fantastic soldier. They'll be fine until we arrive.'

'I hope you're right.'

Later that night I was standing by the edge of the cliff looking at the army which was getting ready for sleep. We were going to ride out the next morning so all of the men were trying to get as much sleep as possible. I couldn't sleep though. As I stood there and let the cool night air clear my head I couldn't help but feel worried that we were going to lose the battle to come. I knew Markus was right and we were facing death in the face but I knew I couldn't abandon my uncle and Rickard. I sighed, frustrated as I turned away from the edge of the cliff and I then walked back towards my tent. As I walked back towards my tent my thoughts turned to Sunniva. She kissed me on my cheek.

 _She was just being polite you idiot_ one part of me said.

 _Maybe it was something else?_

 _No it wasn't. Don't be an idiot._

 _What is she doing now?_

 _She is just your friend!_

 _Will she care if I fall?_

 _Of course she will. She's your friend._

 _Not in that way._

I shook my head as if to shake away the thoughts in my head. I was getting close to my tent when I noticed something. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas were on their horses and were leaving. I briskly walked towards them like everyone else close by to see what was happening.

'Aragorn where are you going?' I loudly asked him.

None of them answered. Instead they just rode down the path in the side of the mountain as we all watched.

'Why does he leave on the eve of battle?' I heard someone ask.

'He must have a good reason,' I answered the soldier even though some doubt was creeping into my mind.

'He leaves because there is no hope,' said Hama.

'He leaves because he must,' the strong voice of King Theoden answered as he stepped through the group of soldiers.

'Too few have come,' said Hama. 'We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor.'

'No,' Theoden answered. 'We cannot. But we will meet them in battle none the less.'

He said what we all knew. We all knew that we probably wouldn't survive the battle and all our talk of looking forward to the battle was a mask to hide our fear. But we were going to fight anyway. I had to walk away from the group and I went back to my tent where I tried to sleep peacefully but my dreams were filled with the fire of war.

The next morning the scene in the camp was chaotic. Every soldier was getting their horses ready and they were packing their supplies of food and dousing the camp fires. I was wearing my vambraces and mail while the rest of my armour was in my pack. I jumped onto Julius and waited for the rest of the Council members. Even Father Harold had joined us saying that it was his duty to be there. The first to join me was Robert on his horse. He looked eager to get going.

'Are you ready for war John?' he asked me.

'As ready as ever Robert. Are you?'

'Of course I am. I've been fighting in wars since before you were born.'

'I know but before a battle I always have the same feeling.'

'We all feel nervous. Now we're going to fight the largest battle I have ever been in if the stories of Mordor's numbers are true.'

'We'll need more numbers to win,' Jason said as he rode over to join us. 'I see that Aragorn and his lackeys 'ave jumped from the sinking ship.'

'He must have had a reason to leave,' I argued.

'Nay. Those three 'ave legged it. We won't see them come back.'

'Let's not focus on them leaving,' Robert said to silence us. 'Here comes Father Harold.'

The priest walked towards us with his ambler just behind him.

'Should we have a word with the rest of the company before we go?' he asked Robert.

'Aye why not?' Jason answered. 'I just want to get going.'

'We'll go down to see them as soon as Markus joins us,' said Robert.

'Wait no longer,' said Markus as he rode towards us. 'Shall we go now?'

The five of us rode down towards the main camp and then we made it quickly to the English Company. They were ready to go and when they saw us they thought that it was time to ride out to war.

'Gentlemen,' Robert loudly said to get their attention, 'Father Harold wishes to speak to you.'

At that all of their eyes focused on the old priest.

'My brothers,' he said to them, 'as our forefathers rode out to liberate the Holy Land in the Crusades we too ride out to wage our own holy war. We are Gods chosen ones and in His name we fight the hordes of Mordor!'

At that every man mounted their horse and we set off. Thousands of horses thundered out of the camp like a river surging out of the mountains.

'Ride!' King Theoden's voice roared over the sound of the army. 'Ride now to Gondor!'

In Minas Tirith preparations were underway for the attack which was about to come. So much had happened since he had taken command of Minas Tirith. He had ordered that the first four levels of the city were to be evacuated and everyone who could walk was ordered to assist in the defence. All men between the ages of fifteen and fifty five was conscripted into the defenders ranks while all the others would help in supporting roles such as making bandages, stretchers, preparing food, assist in the Houses of Healing and making arrows. Anyone who refused to help faced imprisonment. While some in the city would have seen these orders as tyranny many of the soldiers agreed with them so the people had no choice but to comply.

My uncle stood in the top level of the city at the very edge of the courtyard, wearing his full plate armour and a scarlet cape so everyone would recognise him, leaning on the wall looking at Osgiliath so far away. He could already see columns of Orcs marching into the city. They came each day and each night. If the reports from the rangers active behind enemy lines were accurate then the enemy force could number between two hundred and fifty thousand and half a million. He had never imagined that he would see an army that large.

'High Commander,' Faramir said to my uncle.

My uncle turned around to face the man named as his second in command.

'Yes Captain.'

'I have bad news. It appears that no more men will be coming to aid us.'

'What's the good news?' my uncle asked him, not allowing the worry he felt to creep into his voice.

'The evacuation of the lower levels is complete and the men are making good progress on the barricades.'

'Excellent. How long will it take to build them all?'

'At least another day sir.'

'What about the special weapons?'

'Unfortunately we don't have enough supplies to create all that you wanted but we should have half the amount ready by the morning of the battle.'

'It's better than nothing. We'll just have to fight all the more harder.'

'Yes we will sir.'

'I'll inspect the barricades myself,' my uncle told him.

'Will you require an escort?'

'No. I may be old but I can still fight.'

'Very well sir.'

My uncle left the citadel and walked through the upper levels of the city. They were impossibly crowded and many had set up tents in the streets. Soldiers who my uncle passed saluted him and my uncle saluted back. When he reached the lower levels he found no one but soldiers. As he walked on he came upon one of the barricades being built. Each barricade was being built in the middle of the street but on each side of the barricade was a four foot gap. The barricades were seven feet high ramparts made of wood reinforced with shields on the front. Each rampart was topped with spiked poles and behind them a space which men could stand on. Behind that was a ramp leading to the street. The first one he found was half finished with only the shields and stable flooring to add to the barricades.

'How long until this one is finished?' my uncle asked the captain in charge of the soldiers building that barricade.

'A few hours sir,' he answered. 'We'll start work on the next one once we're done.'

'Excellent. Keep up the good work.'

'We will sir.'

As my uncle walked further down into the city he found new barricades every fifty yards along the city, each one the same as the last one. He knew that the barricades wouldn't be able to stop Trolls but against Orcs they would do fine. When he reached the lowest level he found barricades which were complete. The one which was closest to the gate went straight across the middle of the courtyard in front of the gate and was the largest one. He also planned to position a few of his special weapons on the barricade here. My uncle stepped onto the barricade and nodded his head. Archers would have a brilliant field of fire from there while the Orcs would have to literally rip the barricades down to advance. _Or use Trolls to destroy them._ He grimly thought to himself.

'Father,' Rickard, who had been at the gates with the company of soldiers he'd been given command of, asked his father, 'how's everything up there in the Citadel?'

'The local aristocrats have stopped causing trouble but I still have to be careful. How's your tooth?'

Rickard rubbed the side of his face and flinched.

'Not too bad father but that dentist wasn't very gentle.'

'Well now you know not to steal the Stewards meal and bite down hard on the chicken bone.'

'Don't worry. I won't.'

'What about your company, Captain?'

'They're not completely happy with someone who isn't Gondorian as an officer but I think I'll manage to lead them.'

'Good. I wouldn't want to be one of the Orcs that come through those gates.'

'Neither would I father.'

'Get back to your company, Captain.'

'Yes father.' Rickard then saluted him before hurrying back to his company which was setting up obstacles in the space in front of the barricades.

My uncle was alone on the barricade, looking at the hundreds of men who were going to be fighting there soon. Occasionally an officer or messenger would speak to him about a problem they had.

'One wonders how you were able to do all of this,' said Gandalf who had stepped next to him on the barricade.

'Common sense,' my uncle answered. 'When I was in Edoras I spoke with King Theoden and learned about Boromir. Theoden described him as a great general and brave warrior who would fight for even the lowliest soldier in his army. When we got here and I learned that Boromir had a brother I realized that to gain credibility with the army here I would need to gain the respect of Faramir. Finally when I realized that the only way to save this city was to usurp Denethor I had to get Faramir on my side. As the brother of Boromir he had the credibility to give me the power I needed to get rid of Denethor.'

'I see,' Gandalf agreed. 'So in a way you used Faramir.'

'It was a necessary evil,' he defended himself. Will you condemn me for doing all I can do to stop the greatest evil since Satan himself?'

'No I will not,' Gandalf answered as he looked down. 'Sadly war makes a villain of many men.'

'Gandalf, I beseech you to not condemn what I have done here. In the end I am the one who will be remembered for whatever happens here be it good or evil and I will take the blame for the deaths of every man, woman or child who falls here. But I know that I will be welcomed into the kingdom of God with open arms for I refused to let this city fall because of a madman.'

'I am not condemning you James. Just know that I wish war need not come here.'

'No one wants war apart from those who desire chaos.'

'Good. You are just like your father.'

'I am?' my uncle asked, a small smile creeping onto his stoic face. 'How so?'

'In even the darkest moments that I knew him he always kept his faith as the greatest source of comfort to him.'

'It's something that runs in our family,' he told Gandalf. 'I remember when my sons and John were young,' my uncle was interrupted by a messenger.

'Supreme Commander sir,' he was barely fourteen years old, 'I have a message from the forges,' he then handed my uncle a sheet of parchment.

 _Supreme Commander, the first batch of special weapons has been completed and awaits your inspection in the city barracks._

'Excellent,' my uncle said under his breath. 'Gandalf, would you care to see what I have come up with?'

'Of course. Although I wonder why you want to keep it such a secret.'

'You'll see,' my uncle said and then they walked towards the barracks.

The barracks in Minas Tirith were large and had a massive courtyard where men could train and practice military drill. However, set up in the middle of the courtyard though was a device which looked like a metal tube attached to a wooden pole. At one end of the metal tube was a hole but the other end was closed and there was another small hole in the top of the metal tube. The device was resting on top of a crate and next to it was a barrel and a small pile of what looked like metal crossbow bolts. Next to the device was a short metal pole with a thick string on the end of it.

'Excellent,' my uncle said when he looked at it. 'Now to see if it works.'

'Sir,' the Chief of the Forge who was standing next to the device, 'it's ready for the test. Who do you want to test it?'

'I will,' my uncle told him and then picked up the device and pointed his hand at a nearby soldier. 'You, pick up that pole and put hold the string over a fire until the string smoulders but do not let it catch fire.'

'Yes sir,' the soldier said and then hurried to follow the order.

Against the closest wall of the courtyard was a target made up of four breastplates wrapped together with cloth.

My uncle opened the barrel and Gandalf looked at what was in it and then the wizard gasped.

'I know that powder,' he said in surprise.

My uncle ignored him as he poured some of the black powder in the barrel into the metal tube. Many of the soldiers around him looked on curiously as Gandalf stared alarmed at the weapon. After he poured in the powder he put in one of the bolts and then added a little more powder into the small hole in the top of the tube. Then he carefully held it on the box and aimed it at the breastplates.

'Soldier,' he said to the soldier holding the pole and smouldering string, 'hold the string onto the powder on top of the tube.'

Nervously the soldier followed his order and pressed the string into the powder. For a moment there was nothing but then a loud crack filled the courtyard and a flash of light erupted from the tube. The bolt in the tube was launched from the tube and was thrown towards the breastplates. Everyone in the courtyard took a step backwards and some covered their ears. The only two who didn't were Gandalf and my uncle. When everyone looked at the breastplates they saw that the bolt had cut straight through them and hit the wall behind the plates.

'What in the name of the Valar is that?' asked one of the soldiers nearby asked as he looked at the weapon.

'This is the Hand Cannon,' my uncle said as he put down the Hand Cannon. He then turned to the Master of the Forges. 'How many have you made?'

'Six,' he answered.

'I want a dozen made by the time the battle starts. Is that clear?'

'Yes sir,' he answered, exasperated.

'Good. Soon our enemy shall learn that no one can stand against the might of Gondor!' he declared to the men who cheered him.

AN-I hope you enjoyed this one.

Review responses:

Kiya-Thanks for your review. I'm glad you thought that the conversations were well written. Last chapter I may have gone a little deep into the religious side. By the way, I'm an Anglican for the record.

Star-Of-Radiance-I might get to Saurons back-story later on.

ATP-I'm not sure about a lot of people converting in Middle Earth. Thanks for your review.


	14. Chapter 13 The Seige of Minas Tirith

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to The Lord of the Rings

Chapter Thirteen

The Siege of Minas Tirith

The defenders if the city had been working nonstop in the days before the attack. Stretcher bearers had been trained to carry wounded men, conscripts had learned the basics of fighting, veterans had been re-armed and the building closest to the Houses of Healing were converted into makeshift hospitals. However, the most impressive preparation was in the form of Hand Cannons. Each Hand Cannon had a team of three men using it. They had been named Fire Hands. One man would carry, load and aim the weapon, one man would fire it and carry the match (the smouldering string on a pole and the final man was responsible for carrying the powder and bolts. They had drilled for hours, learning how to use their new weapons. One problem they quickly learned though was how inaccurate the weapon was at long range. My uncle therefore ordered them to only be fired on mass to make sure at least one bolt hit the target. Helping that was a mistake which turned out to be an advantage to the defenders of the city. Somehow my uncles order for a dozen Hand Cannons became two dozen and the forges somehow managed to make them.

The attack was inevitable but the White City would not be taken easily.

Horns blasted through the air. Men cheered. Orcs snarled. The battle was about to begin. My uncle stood on the Othram and he watched the enemy army assembling. It was massive. He had never thought he would see an army so large. Standing by him was Rickard's company of men and Gandalf. The fields around Minas Tirith were filled with the army of Mordor. From where he was he could see catapults, siege towers, dozens of Trolls and Orcs. Amongst them were men from the east and south.

'Is it too late to leave?' Rickard whispered to his father.

'I'm afraid so,' he answered.

They were both wearing full plate armour but Rickard was wearing a Gondorian helmet and held a Gondorian sword in his right hand. His shield was strapped to his left arm. My uncle also wore his scarlet cape and the visor on his helmet was up so he could see what was happening. Looking at his men he could tell how nervous they were. They were all so young. Too young for this.

'My brothers!' my uncle belted at the top of his voice. 'I now that you are afraid. So am I. But I am not afraid for my own life. I am afraid for the lives of the women and children in this city! We are fighting for them! If we fail they will all die. We will not let that happen. Now, harden your hearts and look into your soul! There you will find your courage. Now fight soldiers of the White City! FOR GONDOR!'

His men roared when they heard his words. All of them held onto his words as if it was food for a starving man. My uncle drew his sword and held it aloft and his men cheered again.

'WE WILL NOT FALL!'

This cheer was the loudest of them all. It sounded like the ocean smashing against a cliff. At that moment they felt invincible.

'Incoming!' someone shouted and they saw what looked like hundreds of rocks flying towards them.

My uncle didn't see the catapults launch their weapons. He quickly brought down the visor on his helmet and held his arm above his head to shield himself. Rickard held up his shield like the rest of the soldiers. When the rocks smashed against his shield something felt wrong. The rocks felt too soft and some felt like metal. My cousin lowered his shield and almost vomited at what he saw. They weren't rocks. They were heads. The soldiers who fell at Osgiliath had been mutilated and their heads used as weapons. The soldiers morale plummeted and some fell to their knees. My uncle couldn't let their morale fall. He knew how quickly fear could turn to anger. My uncle pulled up his visor and declared,

'REVENGE! WE WILL AVENGE THESE MEN! WE WILL HAVE OUR REVENGE!'

Thousands of his men, driven on by anger and disgust echoed their leaders cry of revenge. The Orcs launched a barrage of boulders and blocks of masonry from their catapults towards the city. Some men were struck on the walls and other rocks crushed buildings behind the walls.

'Trebuchets return fire!' Gandalf, my uncles second in command shouted. 'FOCUS ON THE SEIGE TOWERS!'

The trebuchets that lined the walls of Minas Tirith hurled their masonry at the enemy. Some siege towers toppled over and others struck the Orc's killing dozens at a time. My uncle smiled when he saw one siege tower break apart as it was hit.

'Well done men!' he shouted to the trebuchet teams.

His smile vanished as a terrible screech filled the air. He had heard it before once.

'Damn,' he hissed as his eyes turned to the sky.

Fell beasts ridden by the Ring Wraiths flew out of the clouds towards the city. My uncle counted them as they came. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. All of the Wraiths had gathered for the battle. One of them was the leader of Mordors army. According to legend no man could kill him. He was the Witch King of Angmar. The Wraiths descended upon the city, scooping up men in their talons and crushing them.

'ARCHERS!' my uncle ordered. 'BRING THEM DOWN!'

His order though was drowned by their screeches so terrible that they made men collapse in fear. The towers that survived the onslaught of the trebuchets had almost reached the walls. Archers shot down at the trolls pushing the towers but they couldn't stop them. The towers reached the Othram. My uncle hurried forwards and braced himself for the enemy. He stood in front of a siege tower and raised his sword. The draw bridge of the tower fell down and crashed onto the Othram. The Orcs raced forwards shrieking their blood cries as they hurled themselves onto the Men of Gondor. One jumped at my uncle who dodged it and hacked the Orc almost in half. He then ran his sword straight through the next Orc before easily dispatching two more.

Rickard stopped an axe blow with his shield and then ran the Orc through with his sword. Next he swung his sword at an Orc who blocked it with its own sword. My cousin swung again, this time at the Orcs leg and sliced it off at the knee. The Orc was then dispatched by a foot to the head. The next Orc swung a spiked club at my cousin but it missed and the Orc was killed by a stab to the back by one of my cousins men. Rickard couldn't thank the soldier. The Orcs kept coming at them through the siege towers.

'Hold firm!' my uncle ordered when he saw some men retreating. 'There is nowhere to run!'

My uncle cleaved open an Orcs skull and sliced the next one in half.

'Peregrin Took,' he heard Gandalf say and he turned around to see the Hobbit standing a little away from the fight. My uncle rolled his eyes at the Hobbits foolhardiness.

'Get the Hobbit out of here!' my uncle shouted just as another Orc attacked him.

'We were called out to fight,' Pippin said as Gandalf killed another Orc.

'This is no place for a Hobbit!' Gandalf quickly shouted.

A group of Orcs charged towards Pippin but Gandalf jumped into them killing them. While Gandalf's back was turned he faced an Orc charged behind the wizard but Pippin stabbed it with his short sword. When Gandalf saw what Pippin had done he nodded at the Hobbit and smiled.

'Guard of the Citadel indeed. Now back up the hill quickly.'

Pippin obeyed the wizards order as the fight continued.

My uncle, seeing that the attack by the towers was slowing down, decided to move along the rest of the Othram so his soldiers knew he was there. When he reached the Gates he saw a pile of bodies were in front of the gates. All of them Orcs who were trying to use a small battering ram to knock the gates down.

'How is this part holding out?' my uncle asked the officer there.

'Very well sir,' he answered as he shot an arrow at an Orc killing the beast. 'They're not breaking through the gates with that battering ram.'

'Maybe we built the barricades for nothing,' my uncle said to himself.

The Orcs attacking the gates retreated leaving at least a hundred bodies by the gates. My uncles smile vanished when he saw what was coming. All of the Orcs starting chanting,

'GROND, GROND, GROND!'

Moving towards the gates, dragged by massive beasts, was a battering ram larger than any he had ever seen. Made in the shape of a beast with a fire in its mouth and hanging on a gigantic frame, it crawled towards the gates.

'Damn,' my uncle whispered.

As the battle went on into the night the Orcs had started to use fire as a weapon. Their catapults launched burning projectiles into the city setting the first level of the city on fire. Even worse, the battering ram named "Grond" was right outside the gates. Slowly it started hammering away at the gates, each time it hit the gates they became weaker and weaker. My uncle had moved his men onto the barricade and the archers on top of the gates had been pulled back. All of the men on the Othram had pulled back into the city, the Orcs giving up on the tower attacks by then. The retreating men had retreated past the barricade through the gaps at the sides of it. Once all the men were through the gaps were plugged by wagons loaded with rocks. On the front of each wagon was a four foot wide wooden sheet two inches thick and covered with spear tips, so anyone who attacked it would be impaled on them. The troops had nicknamed them "Knife Carts". Grond hammered away at the gates, each blow coming closer to breaking the gates down. My uncle stood on the barricade next to the men armed with Hand Cannons. The men in the forges didn't make the dozen Hand Cannons, they'd made twenty. Twelve of them were lined up on the barricade, ready to destroy whatever came through the gates. Standing with them on the barricade were archers and behind them regular infantry, ready to fight it out. Behind the barricade reserves of archers and swordsmen waited to move forwards.

'Not a step back!' my uncle ordered.

Just to my uncles right stood Rickard and Faramir. Faramir wore plate armour but still had his bow.

'Fire on my command!' my uncle shouted and raised his sword.

Grond struck again, breaking the gates open and charging through came four Trolls, some wearing armour but all carrying massive war hammers, into the courtyard.

'FIRE!' my uncle shouted.

The Hand Cannons fired. Twelve bolts flew through the air and smashed into the Trolls. Three of them were cut down while the last one had its arm torn off.

'Second wave,' said my uncle and the Fire Hands stepped off the barricade. In their place the other Fire Hands behind the barricade stepped forwards and aimed at the last Troll.

'Fire,' my uncle ordered and the Troll was killed.

Following the Trolls came the Orcs. Hundreds of them poured into the courtyard hurling their battle cries at the men on the barricade.

'Fire Hands will retire to the next barricade! Archer's fire!' my uncle ordered and nearly a hundred archers on the barricade unleashed their arrows into the Orcs mowing them down. With each step the Orcs took they lost dozens of their soldiers.

With each Orc killed the defenders confidence grew and then the Orcs smashed into the barricade. The archers stepped back and melee soldiers stepped forwards to stab down at the enemy. My uncle hacked down with his sword, cleaving an Orcs head in two while Rickard slashed and killed an Orc. In moments the Orc attack ground to a stop. Orcs tried climbing up the barricade but the defenders hacked off their hands when they saw them. Some Orcs armed with spears stabbed up at the defenders and killed a few but they were soon killed by their vengeful foes. For close to ten minutes the Orcs tried to attack over the walls but they kept dying. Behind the barricade Faramir and the archers launched a barrage of arrows over the barricade and into the packed Orcs. They were so tightly packed together that the archers couldn't miss. Injured Gondorian's were carried away on stretchers held by the youngest conscripts. They were to be taken to the Houses of Healing.

'They're just standing their asking for it!' Rickard shouted as he killed the next Orc.

'Keep fighting Rickard,' he said to his son.

For half an hour they battled the Orcs at the barricade killing hundreds of them. As my uncle killed another Orc he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. He looked up towards the dark sky and saw it. Hell was descending.

My uncle never believed that you should throw away the lives of your soldiers but he learned that the Witch King disagreed. He didn't care how many of his own soldiers he killed to win the battle. He had ordered a dozen catapults to release balls of fire upon the courtyard.

'OFF THE BARRICADE!' my uncle shouted when he saw the fire coming towards them.

My relatives ran off the barricade, as did many of the men who served under them, but not all of them escaped the fire. Some of the fire balls crashed into the gates, others landed amongst the Orcs in the courtyard, some hit the men behind the barricade but two destroyed the barricade. Clouds of flame filled the air. Men and Orcs were incinerated. Chunks of splintered and burning wood crashed into the men who had defended the barricade. My uncle looked at the breach in the barricade as the Orcs poured through it. Those savage beasts screamed as they charged towards the defenders of the city. Without a moment of hesitation my uncle, followed by Rickard and the rest of the men, attacked the Orcs.

The fighting was bloody and my uncle couldn't count how many Orcs he killed. His blade was black with Orc blood. Even with the barricade gone the defenders could not be broken. Then the next wave of Trolls came. Three of them smashed through what was left of the barricades and then through the defenders. Realising that the courtyard could be held no longer my uncle ordered the retreat. The men raced through the burning streets of Minas Tirith down one direct path. The passed streets and alleys blacked with debris and rubble designed to force the Orcs to take one path through the city. It would be impossible to outflank the barricades. My uncle was at the rear of the retreating force with the Orcs only meters behind him. At the head of the Orc attack were the three Trolls ready to smash apart anything in their path. At last my uncle saw the second barricade on the first level. He was the last person the pass through the gap at the side of the barricade before the knife carts were rolled into place. Standing on the barricade were all of the Fire Hand teams who aimed their weapons at the Trolls and fired. The Trolls were torn apart by the latest weapon in Gondor's arsenal. While the rest of the men from the first barricade kept running through the city to get themselves refreshed for later in the battle my uncle and Gandalf stayed at the second barricade. Defending that barricade was a force of two hundred swordsmen and spearmen and fifty archers. It was enough to hold them.

'Fire Hands retire behind the barricade,' my uncle ordered as he stepped onto it. 'Archers fire!'

He felt tired. His sword was heavier than it always had been but he still fought. Orc after Orc fell to his blade and those of the Gondorian's and Gandalf. However, the next wave of attackers wasn't Orcs. They were Easterlings, men from the east who had sworn allegiance to Sauron. They wore uniformed armour and carried square shields which they held above their heads as they advanced. Their formation resembled the one the Uruk-Hai used to march up the causeway at Helm's Deep. The arrows the defenders fired just bounced off of their shields so my uncle gave the order.

'Fire Hands step onto the barricade,' they did as he said and took aim at the Easterling attackers. All two dozen Hand Cannons were ready to unleash their fury at the Easterlings. 'FIRE!'

The Hand Cannons roared into life and the twenty four bolts shredded through the tight formation. Forty of them were killed in the attack.

'Archers fire!'

Arrows hurled through the disorganised column of Easterlings and cut dozens of them down. As they tried to reform they were slaughtered and soon that entire column was destroyed. Behind them came more Orcs. Leading them were Orcs armed with billhooks to tear down the barricade.

'Fire at will!' my uncle barked and the archers let loose a cloud of arrows into the Orcs cutting them down. The ground was soon littered with bodies and my uncle smiled. The plan was working

The Hand Cannons had been reloaded and their bearers stepped forwards to fire them. My uncle was surprised at how quickly the Gondorian's had learned to use them. Each Hand Cannon needed two men to use. One to aim and load it and one to fire it. They had trained hard and had mastered its use. Now they unleashed another barrage into the enemy ranks mowing them down. My uncles moment of pride in his men then vanished when he heard something. Booming coming from where the Orcs were. A Troll, fully armoured, rounded the corner and charged towards the barricade.

 _You idiot!_ my uncle cursed himself. _They were a distraction. They were waiting until the Hand Cannons had to reload. The Witch King is a cunning foe._

'Archers fire!' he ordered and the archers launched arrow after arrow at the Troll. Most of them bounced off of its armour but some pierced its armour and a few hit it in the face. As the Troll died it hurled itself forwards onto the barricade.

My uncle and most of the others retreated off of it just in time but some of the men didn't and were crushed. My uncle pushed himself up and saw the Orc tide surging towards them.

'Retreat!' my uncle shouted.

As they ran my uncle looked up and saw the Witch King on his Fell Beast.

'The next trap will be yours!' my uncle hissed.

They made it to the next barricade, the last on the first level, and, after the gaps were blocked by knife carts, my uncle stepped onto the barricade and gave new orders.

'From now on the Hand Cannons will only be used against Trolls! Do you understand?'

'Yes sir,' the commander of the Fire Hands answered with a salute as he held his weapon proudly.

'Actually wait,' my uncle changed his mind. 'Half of the Hand Cannons will mount the barricade!'

They followed his order and half of them mounted the barricade. The Orcs charging towards them roared their unholy war cries as they eagerly got ready for what they thought would be a slaughter.

'Hand Cannons fire!' my uncle ordered for what felt like the tenth time.

Ten bolts tore into the Orcs killing many of them. As my uncle expected a Troll charged forwards after they had fired.

'And now the trap is yours,' my uncle said with a smile. 'Hand Cannons, get up here and bring that Troll down!'

They followed his order perfectly and fired their weapons. The Troll fell dead, a massive chunk torn out of it, and crushed some Orcs as it fell. The archers on the barricade started firing their arrows cutting down Orcs.

'James,' my uncle turned around to face Gandalf on his horse, 'I think you should pull back to the next barricade. I'll take your place here.'

'I'm fine Gandalf,' my uncle snapped as the Orc's hit the barricade.

'James do as I say.'

Knowing that Gandalf wouldn't stop his arguing my uncle reluctantly left the barricade and started the walk to the next one. The street was empty of life. Deserted. But he could still hear the screams of battle just behind him. Men were fighting and dying there. It didn't take him long to walk through the archway to the second level. The next barricade was there. It was identical to the others.

My uncle passed through the gap in it and was greeted by hundreds of men saluting him.

'Father!'

Rickard, who had been behind the barricade, hurried to his father's side and hugged him.

'Are you alright?' he asked his father.

'Just tired,' he answered. 'Tired.'

'Then let me get you something to drink.'

'It will take more than drink,' my uncle said as he sat down on a crate.

'What do you mean?' Rickard asked his father.

'I mean I'm tired of all of this,' he said as quietly as he could so only Rickard could hear him. 'Fighting. I want this to be my final battle. After this, I hope I don't need to fight again.'

Rickard looked at his father. They both knew that war drains the spirit from all men. Even the best soldier can't fight forever.

'No one will force you to fight after this,' Rickard told his father. 'You've done enough in this war already.'

James Harris smiled at his son.

'I think you might be right.'

Their moment was ended sharply and suddenly by a screech filled the air. Wraiths on their beasts swooped down from the sky and attacked the barricades. They tore them apart with their talons and slaughtered the men on them. My uncle was thrown to the ground by Rickard who shielded his father with his body. When the Wraiths left the barricade was completely destroyed.

'Christ,' Rickard cursed. 'What do we do now?'

Before my uncle could answer that question Gandalf rode up to him followed by what was left of his men.

'The Orcs are right behind us,' he said to my uncle and then gave the worst news. 'Most of the Fire Hands are dead. Only two teams are left alive.'

'Close the door here!' my uncle snapped at the nearby men. 'We retreat to the third level, rally our men there and prepare a counter attack! MOVE!'

Hundreds of men retreated through the city passing what was left of barricades and picking up more men. When they reached the third level hundreds of men had gathered there. Most were shouting while the officers tried to restore order. My uncle climbed on top of a pile of crates and started barking orders but no one listened.

'SILENCE!' Gandalf dark booming voice restored order.

'We are going to counter attack!' my uncle shouted. 'Bring every barrel of black powder here. HERE!'

'Will you need my help?'

My uncle looked towards the voice and saw him. Marching through the crowds dressed in mail armour and carrying a sword, followed by dozens of the Citadel Guard, including Pippin, was Denethor.

'Aren't you supposed to be in your chambers?' my uncle asked him.

'I have snapped back to my senses.'

My uncle thought about it for a moment. Should he allow Denethor to help in the defence. If he refused than he may lose control of his forces. My uncle decided.

'I know how I can use you and your men,' my uncle said and then he gave out his orders.

The men quickly piled the barrels of powder around the gates to the third level while the Gondorian infantry stood fifty yards away from the gates. My uncle positioned many archers, led by Faramir, in the buildings close to the gate to give them a good position to shoot their arrows. Soon they heard something pounding against the gates. It was a Troll trying to smash the gates down. When this was happening my uncle began the last part of the plan. He opened a barrel of the black powder and poured all of it on top of another barrel. He quickly ran back to the main line of Gondorian's as they waited for the Troll to break through. My uncle, standing next to Gandalf and Rickard, got ready for the fight that was about to begin. The Last of the Fire Hands got ready to fire once the doors opened. After many blows from the Troll the gates burst open and the forces of Mordor surged through.

'Hold,' my uncle shouted so the archers could hear him. Carefully he judged the distance and when the enemy had reached the point half way between the entrance and the soldiers he gave the order. 'FIRE!'

The Fire Hands used their weapons and killed the Troll. However, the main order was to the archers. They aimed their burning arrows at the barrels of powder and let the arrows go, striking the powder.

KAAAAAAABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The powder exploded creating a fireball that incinerated the Orcs leading the attack. Half of the Orcs that made it though were killed in the blast, either by the fire or by the shrapnel. The entire archway that supported the gates was destroyed. Blocks of white stone crashed into the massed ranks of Orcs crushing them. For a few precious seconds there was silence. The Orcs not caught in the blast froze in the spot. The Gondorian's were frozen, waiting for an order. My uncle raised his sword and gave them an order.

'CHARGE!'

The doors for the buildings around the Orcs were thrown open and out of them charged the Guards, led by Denethor who gutted an Orc in moments. The main Gondorian line, led by Gandalf and my uncle, hit the Orcs from the front. My uncle sliced his sword straight through two Orcs and then ran his blade straight through another one. What was left of the Orc vanguard was slaughtered in less than a minute. The defenders didn't stop there. Lead by their Supreme Commander they charged straight into the Orc ranks. Faramir joined in the charge as well and, fighting alongside his father, they cut a path through the Orcs. As the battle went on and on they pushed the Orcs back to the centre of the second level and were stopped at the ruins of a barricade. The Orcs had pulled back a hundred yards and my uncle took the tiny respite to form a plan.

'Hold here!' my uncle ordered and killed another Orc. 'Rickard, Denethor, you and your companies will form a shield wall and halt any Orc attack. Everyone else, rebuild this barricade. NOW!'

They moved to quickly obey his orders. My cousin and Denethor ordered their companies to form a shield wall across the street blocking any Orc attack. The rest of the soldiers quickly used everything they could find to rebuild the barricade. The piled chunks of stone and wood together. They smashed open the doors of nearby buildings and used the furniture and they added an intact knife cart to the barricade. The barricade was quickly built. It was little more than a pile of rubbish but it was better than nothing. Just as they finished it again the Orcs attacked again. The Gondorian forces in the shield wall retreated behind the new barricade and prepared themselves. The barricade was four feet high and three feet thick. My uncle smiled at how well they obeyed his orders. They were all excellent soldiers. But even with such brave men he knew that the battle wasn't over. But still my uncle knew that leading them in battle was the greatest honour of his life. Where they had built the barricade they could see Pelannor Fields and the sun rising over it. The fields were filled with Orcs. They hadn't even dented the Orc army. He knew that they would probably die in Minas Tirith. He was about to prepare himself for the next Orc attack when he heard it. A horn. Not the guttural, brutish horns of the Orcs but a smooth, deep one. That horn was then joined by many others and my uncle looked to the hills beyond Pelannor. Rising over the crest of the hill he saw a line of horses. Behind them stood another six thousand.

Rohan had come.

AN: Well what did you think. With this chapter I wanted to show how James is skilled as both a warrior and a leader.

By the way I wanted to bring this up. Has anyone noticed that Gondorian soldiers in the films were like the Storm Troopers of Middle Earth? They're kinda hopeless. In this chapter I wanted to make them look like great soldiers.

Review Response:

Kiya: Well I wanted to put my own spin on The Siege of Minas Tirith and I wanted to think of a neat weapon so I said to myself, "I'll give 'em guns."

Please review. Have a nice day.


	15. Chapter 14 Pelennor Fields

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to the Lord of the Rings

Chapter fourteen

Pelannor Fields

We crested the final hill and saw the enemy spread out before us. I had never seen an army that massive in my life and neither had I imagined one. I looked at the men around me. The English Company was at the front of the Army of Rohan not far from King Theoden so we got a perfect view of them. I looked at the men around me. Markus was directly to my right and along from him was Jason and then Robert. Father Harold was at the back of the army, waiting for the end of the battle when he would give last rights. I, Markus and Robert wore full plate armour awhile Jason wore half plate and a kettle helmet. He was no longer carrying the standard, that was being carried by a knight named Gregory of Cumbria, but Jason was holding his billhook. Robert and Markus held lances and I held my Alaric, my poleaxe was strapped to my back. Most of the others had lances as well. I looked at the massive army of Mordor that we would face in battle. As I took a comforting breath to get rid of the sick feeling in my stomach I looked at my cousin. Through the T shaped gap in his helmet I saw that he was as nervous as I.

'My father and brother's in that city,' Markus said with his voice filled with dread.

'They'll be fine,' I told my cousin as I tried to convince myself of that.

'We must be madmen to come here,' he said to himself.

'Either mad or brave,' Robert said from his horse.

'I'm the madman,' Jason loudly proclaimed.

A few of us nervously chuckled at his joke.

'I'll race you to their lines,' I said to Markus.

Beneath me I felt Julius shift nervously. To calm him I gently patted Julius on the neck.

'We'll be fine,' I whispered to my horse.

Theoden sat on his horse, Snowmane, and formed a plan against the enemy force. After a few moments he nodded to himself and started riding down the length of the line giving orders.

'Eomer,' he ordered, 'take your eored down the left flank. Gamling, Robert, follow the kings banner down the centre. Grimbold, take your company right after you pass the wall. Forth, and fear no darkness!'

As his officers rode down the front of the army to follow their kings orders the king himself turned to face his forces.

'Arise! Arise Riders of Theoden! Spears shall be shaken. Shields shall be splintered. A sword day! A red day! Ere the sun rises!'

Every man levelled his weapon and I did the same with Alaric. The king raised his sword and galloped down the length of the line tapping each soldiers weapon with his blade.

'Ride now!' he declared. 'Ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin and the worlds ending!'

He tapped Alaric and I felt my confidence grow. He lowered his sword and turned his sword to face the enemy. Holding his sword aloft he declared,

'Death!'

The Rohirrim echoed him but the English Company didn't.

'Death!' Theoden cried again and this time some of the Company joined the Rohirrim in their cheer.

'DEATH!' Theoden declared for the third time. That time I and the rest of the Company joined the cheer.

'DEATH!'

'Forth Eorlingas!'

The battle horns blew and the line advanced. As we moved forwards with a cheer I felt my heart start to race. I reached up my hand towards my helmets visor and pulled it down. Every sound was muffled but I could still hear the thunder of thousands of hooves. We moved at a canter at first to keep our formation until the king broke into a gallop. We commanded our horses to gallop at full speed towards the enemy. Beneath me the ground was a blur and the wind rushed through my helmets visor stinging my eyes. I held my poleaxe high, ready to strike down every Orc I saw. The Orcs, hoping that they could stop us, sent a hail of arrows down towards us. Around me I heard men screaming as they fell from their horses but I wasn't harmed. I felt one arrow bounce off of my armour. My confidence grew, my fear vanishing in our charge as I raised my sword high ready to strike down each Orc I came upon. Ahead I saw the Orcs already starting to run away from us. With one last roar of defiance we crashed into the Orc army.

I swung my sword down slicing off a head and then hacking the arm from another. I didn't notice the black blood splatter onto my armour or the men falling dead around me. All I could see was the horde of Orcs we were cutting a swathe through. I swung my sword down again and struck down another Orc. The entire Orc line had disintegrated into nothing. Their fear drove them back. A few of them with some backbone tried to stand against us. They were few and far between though and we annihilated the Orcs. They fell like wheat to a scythe.

Julius tuned to dodge and Orc sword blow and I finished off the Orc with Alaric. I looked around me at the other soldiers. Jason was tearing through the enemy, grunting and growling with each swing of his billhook. Markus had discarded his lance and was instead using his sword. With skill and intelligence he stabbed down at the joints and gaps in the Orcs armour. Robert killed quickly and neatly, striking down each Orc that dared to attack him. With a hard swing I cleaved open the skull of an Orc and then stabbed another through the shoulder and down into its lungs. The Orcs broke and fled and we rode them down. That was when the serpent struck.

I struck down another Orc and I was preparing to give chase when I felt the ground shake. I looked towards the south where I saw them.

One of the greatest warriors fighting for Mordor was a general from Harad. He was the Black Serpent. He and his force of eighteen thousand cavalry from Harad, a land far to the south and an old enemy of Gondor, were charging towards us. His plan was to drive us off the field through numbers alone and break our will to fight by killing Theoden.

When Theoden saw the Harad cavalry he didn't hesitate.

'Robert, take five companies and flank them! Everyone else charge!' he bellowed and he led us into the fight.

Robert gave his orders through Jason who belted out the orders at the top of his lungs. Five companies, including the English Company, followed the Banner of Saint George to the east of the Harad cavalry. I looked as the army of Rohan and Harad clashed in one of the largest cavalry battles in history. The Harad numbers were starting to tell as they swarmed around the Rohirrim. Our small force of just five hundred cavalry stopped a distance from the battle and then turned, formed a line and prepared to charge. The knights and most heavily armed men at arms were in the front line with the Rohirrim behind us. Robert took a look at the battle and saw the Black Serpents banner, driving its way towards Theoden.

'To the Serpent!' Robert shouted and we charged into the battle.

As we galloped towards the flank of the Harad cavalry I closed my eyes and sent a silent prayer to God. I knew that they would be far more dangerous than the Orcs. Looking at them I saw that the Haradrim were dressed in light armour, red and brown cloaks, robes and turbans. I raised up Alaric and we crashed into the flank of the Haradrim. I sliced the head off of one and swung at another. He caught my blade with his scimitar and then pulled his sword away from mine ready to swing again. He swung and I blocked his attack. I held his blade and then swung my blade down towards him. My sword sliced down across his chest, cutting him from his collar bone to his waist. Red blood spluttered from him, splashing across my cuirass, and he fell dead. The next Haradrim thrust at me with a spear but it broke against my armour. I thrust Alaric at him and stabbed him through the chest killing him with one blow. We drove our way towards the Black Serpent killing every Haradrim in our path. I looked around me and saw one of our knights battling three Haradrim. One sliced at his neck with an axe and hacked halfway through. The knight fell from his horse, blood staining his shining armour and his head only just hanging onto the rest of his body. One of the men at arms fell dead with a spear through his back and him grabbing the sword, his face locked in a silent scream. I swung at the next Haradrim, anger rising in my veins. I hacked him across his face and then across his chest. The next one I slashed across the stomach spilling the man's innards across the ground and his horse. Another charged at me with an axe, the head red with blood, and aimed at my neck. I blocked the axe with my sword. He pulled his weapon away and swung again. This time I ducked my head down and the axe passed over my head. I stabbed at him beneath his rib cage killing that one as well. Robert led the way gutting every enemy who tried to fight him. Following him we battled our way through the Haradrim cavalry towards the Black Serpent and his body guard from behind. From the front Theoden and his Royal Guard were battling towards the Serpent as well. We had him surrounded.

Markus cleaved through another Haradrim's head and then sliced another one's neck. A Haradrim swung his scimitar at my cousin bouncing off of his helmet. That warrior was fast though. He wore the strong armour and had the training of the Serpents bodyguard. The Harad warrior sliced three more times and my cousin was barely keeping him back. The Harad warrior then stopped, took a shaky breath, and fell dead. Behind him was Jason, a snarl across his face. They nodded at each other and dove back into the fight.

Jason killed anyone who got in his path. Wielding his billhook with years of practice he killed two with one swing of his weapon. A Haradrim cavalryman then charged at Jason with his spear aimed at Jason's horse. The spearhead was driven deep into the horses head killing the poor animal. Jason jumped off of his horse in time to not be trapped beneath it. When he hit the ground he picked up his billhook and stood up ready to keep fighting. One Haradrim horseman, armed with a scimitar, rode past him and swung down at Jason. Jason blocked the blow with his left vambrace and swung his billhook behind the horsemans neck, pulling him down to the ground and then finished him off with a boot to the face.

Robert killed another Haradrim as he got closer to the Black Serpent. With us behind him tearing through the Haradrim he knew it was only a matter of time until we defeated this foe. Theoden reached the Black Serpent and the two of them duelled on horseback against each other. They swung their blades at each other trading blows and parrying until at last Theoden dealt the final blow. With one great swing of his sword he killed the Black Serpent. Seeing their leader die was all it took to break the morale of the Haradrim. They retreated south back to their homeland. Instead of pursuing them we went after the Orcs who were running towards Osgiliath.

'Make safe the city!' Theoden shouted over the noise of battle.

We who were pursing the Orcs stopped when we saw what was coming towards us. In the distance, coming from the direction the Orcs were retreating, they came.

'You have got to be joking,' I said out loud.

The Mumakil came upon us. I had seen drawings of animals in my world called Elephants. The Mumakil looked similar but for one main difference. Size. The Mumakil were massive beasts, each one at thirty five feet tall and on each ones back was a bamboo and canvas harness that archers stood on. Each one was driven by a man standing on the back on the beast's neck using reins attached to the animal's ears.

The ground trembled beneath my feet as the dozen beasts advanced upon us and their passengers shouted out their war cries.

'Reform the line!' Theoden ordered us.

As quickly as we could we reformed a front line facing the enemy. The Mumakil roared and charged towards us at full speed. A Rohirric horn blasted out and I heard Theoden declare,

'CHARGE!'

With a defiant roar we raced towards them across Pelannor and the next stage of the battle began.

Inside Minas Tirith the battle continued. My uncle stood on top of the barricade bringing his sword down on every Orc that tried to cross it. All around him men fought and died and killed. The fighting was cut throat and savage. All of the nobility of war had vanished by then, replaced by the need to survive. To my uncles left stood Denethor and Faramir fighting side by side. Orcs tried to clamber over the barricade but were cut apart. To my uncles right a Gondorian soldier was stabbed by a spear in the shoulder. The soldier dropped his sword and fell down screaming.

'Someone take that mans place!' my uncle ordered as the soldier was dragged to back of the line where stretcher bearers were waiting.

Thundering up the streets came Orc after Orc. It felt like an endless tidal wave of them were bearing down upon the defenders. As my uncle looked at them he shook his head. The army of Rohan was battling the Mumakil and he could see it all from where he was. He knew then that our chances of victory had never been as slim. In his moment of lost concentration an Orc was about to strike him down when Pippin stabbed the creature.

'Well done Master Hobbit,' my uncle said and then gutted another Orc.

'Thank you sir,' Pippin said as he blocked a blow from another Orc.

The Orcs heard a yell coming from behind them and they retreated from the barricade. The defenders didn't cheer. After hours of fighting they had lost close to half of their men. My uncle had ordered many of the men back up to the fourth level where to prepare more defences. Only two hundred of his men were still on the second level fighting. When the Orcs had pulled back behind a bend in the street my uncle got to work again. He ordered the men directly at the front to the rear so the fresh men at the back could fight. My uncle stayed at the front though. That was his place as a leader. Denethor stayed at the front with him as well.

'You can go to the rear,' my uncle told him.

'I belong here at the front. This is my city and I will not let it fall.'

'Good.'

'I wanted to thank you,' he said to my uncle.

'What are you thanking me for?'

'For relieving me of command. You finally snapped the sense back into me.'

'I didn't do it for that reason. I did it for my home. If this city falls so shall my home.'

'I see. I would have done the same.'

'I see then that you think of what is necessary rather than what would make others happy.'

'That is correct Supreme Commander Harris.'

Their talk was interrupted by a roar. A Troll, the last Troll still alive after hours of fighting, charged towards them. My uncle only had five archers with him and he knew that they weren't enough to pierce the Trolls armour.

'Fall back!' my uncle ordered and his soldiers followed his order. All but one. My uncle himself.

He stood with his feet planted on the ground and his sword raised ready to battle the brute. He stood ten yards away from the barricade and when the Troll smashed through it he didn't flinch. The Troll roared when it saw its prey. Thinking it would be an easy kill the beast raised its hammer and brought it down. My uncle dodged it and the hammer smashed into the ground cracking the pavement. My uncle moved quickly and swung his sword into the Trolls wrist cutting down to the bone. He pulled the blade out and struck twice more cutting into the Trolls leg and arm. The Troll was slower than the one he faced in Osgiliath but it was still a formidable enemy. The Troll, enraged by my uncles fighting skill swung again with its hammer and narrowly missed him. My uncle needed to end the fight quickly before the Orcs came. He could already hear them howling as they came closer. My uncle saw a weak point in the Trolls armour, a gap on its side. With a good thrust up he could kill it. My uncle charged forwards, ducking under a swing of the hammer and stabbed through the weak point in the armour. With all his might he pushed his sword through the gap, black blood pouring over his fingers, until he could push it no further. Then, with one mighty last effort he yanked his blood drenched sword from the Troll and the beast fell to the ground. My uncle took a moment to catch his breath but that was all the Troll needed. In one last burst of its cruel life it swung its hammer into my uncle's left arm. The impact threw my uncle into a wall. Doing all he could to not scream in agony he gripped his wounded arm. He didn't look at it but he felt the pain. Hot, white pain. Trying the breathe he felt a pain in his chest. Broken ribs. After a great effort he pulled off his helmet and felt fresh hard, hot air scraping his face. Looking up at the sky he saw dark clouds above mixed with columns of thick black smoke. Slowly his eyes turned towards where the last barricade once stood and he saw Orc streaming through. He sent a prayer to God that the defences would hold just as he saw an Orc running at him. My uncle closed his eyes.

When we came close enough to the Mumakil they swung their tusks down sending men flying through the air. Some were crushed beneath their feet while others were shot by the archers on top of the Mumakil. I swerved Julius out of the way of a Mumakil's foot as an arrow only missed me by inches. I rode past the bodies of two fallen knights, their bright shining armour tinted red by their own blood.

'This is impossible!' I shouted at Markus who was riding next to me.

'There has to be a way!' he shouted back. 'How did the Romans do it!'

'They avoided them!' I answered as we rode beneath one and out the other side.

'Then we need to think up a plan of our own!'

I tried to think of something but the impossibility of this battle was overwhelming me. To make matters worse the Orcs had returned. They were more afraid of their own leaders than they were afraid of us. I swung down and killed another Orc as it tried to stab me. I looked up at the Mumakil and shook my head. It was impossible. Then I saw one of the Mumakil sharply turn to the right and crash into another one of its kind killing the both of them.

Markus and I charged beneath another Mumakil and I managed to slice at its leg but it did nothing. When we emerged on the other side of the beast I turned to see Pippin and the other rider on their horse riding under that same Mumakil. The other rider had a sword in each hand and when they rode under it the soldier sliced deep into the Mumakils ankles. I guessed that he had cut something important because the Mumakil roared in pain as it fell down.

We started gaining ground as hundreds of our mounted archers focused their fire on the Mumakils head. If just one arrow hits a Mumakil in the eye it can die. So many archers fired on it that one was sure to hit the eye. The beast fell dead.

I rode on and cut down one of the Mumakils archers who had fallen from the beast. We were holding on by just a thread and a thread can be cut so easily. I rode past another Mumakil and looked up at the archers on its back. Gritting my teeth in frustration I didn't see the arrow. It missed me but struck Julius in the neck. The black horse whinnied in pain as he fell dead. I was thrown from my companion's saddle and I crashed onto the hard ground. I felt pain all over me but I was sure nothing was broken. I struggled to my feet and looked over at Julius. His lifeless body looked so peaceful, almost asleep. I turned around and saw Orcs and Haradrim charging towards me. As fast as I could I charged into the battle and blocked a blow from a Haradrim with a scimitar. I forced his blade down and sent the pummel of my sword into his face. After that a ran an Orc through and sliced another across its middle. Then a Haradrim spearman stabbed at me. I hacked my sword at the spear breaking it and then I stabbed him. I pushed my sword straight through him until I was looking him in the eye. I twisted Alaric and then pulled my sword from him. I looked at my enemies body for just a moment until I was attacked by another Orc. They would just rush me and I had no problem slicing them down.

The next enemy was a Haradrim swordsman who rushed me with a scimiatar. He was a skilled warrior who put up a good fight. I took two blows on my armour before I sent him to the ground with a gauntleted punch to the face. He looked up at me as I thrust my sword down into his belly.

'Rally to me!' I heard Theoden shout over the din of battle but his orders were drowned out by a terrible screech from the sky.

I looked towards Theoden and the Witch King diving out of the sky towards him. The Fell Beast the Witch King rode grabbed Snowmane with its mouth and threw them, horse and rider through the air. The men of Rohan were loyal to their king but they feared the Witch King. The Rohirrim retreated from the King and I was about to do the same.

'Feast on his flesh,' I heard the Witch King hiss to his mount.

I couldn't let that happen. I battled my fear and rushed as fast as I could towards the king. To my relief I saw that one Rohirric soldier stood in the Path of the Witch King.

'I will kill you if you touch him,' the soldier defiantly declared as he raised his sword and shield. His voice wasn't very strong. _He must be teenager_ I thought to myself.

I was halfway there when the Witch King commanded his beast to attack. The Fell Beast extended its neck to snap at the soldier but he dodged it and hacked into the beasts neck slicing it off. Rising from the twitching corpse came the Witch King. He wore a black cloak and a black helmet. I couldn't see eyes or a face. Instead there was an empty black space. Armed with a sword and a mace he attacked the young soldier nearly hitting him. The Witch King swung his mace and the young soldier raised his shield to defend himself. The blow destroyed the shield and the soldier screamed in pain, grasping his arm. I ran all the faster towards the battle between the two of them. The Witch King picked the young soldier up by the neck and prepared to kill him when I saw something. Merry the Hobbit. He was creeping along the ground towards the fight with a dagger in his hand.

'No man can kill me,' the Witch King hissed at the soldier.

With a great effort he stabbed his dagger into the Witch Kings leg.

The leader of Mordor's armies fell to his knees with a screech and the soldier he was about to kill stood up and pulled off his helmet. What I saw almost made me drop my sword in amazement.

Eowyn threw her helmet to the ground and declared,

'I am no man!'

With a shout she thrust her sword into the Witch Kings hood and he screeched in pain. His armour and cloak collapsed onto itself and crumbled to dust, scattering to the winds. Eowyn fell to the ground exhausted from her battle.

For a second I smiled, knowing that the leader of Mordors army was destroyed. But as I turned towards the city of Minas Tirith I saw the Anduin and the fleet of black ships sailing up the river. Enemy reinforcements. I looked at the thousands of bodies scattered across the field. The Mumakil were still slaughtering their way through our ranks and the Orcs were battling us on foot.

'It's over,' I said out loud as I made my peace with God.

AN: Yes Theoden died here. Sorry if you were hoping he would live. Also, let me know if you think I went a little too graphic at some points here. I was watching Conan the Barbarian while writing this :).

So, will James live? All will be revealed.

Review responses:

Kiya: Thanks for your continuous reviews. I take you saying I would be a good screen writer as a very good compliment.

Jack Redhawke: I hope this was MOAR enough for you.

Star-Of-Radiance: I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I hope you liked this one as well.

As ever, have a nice day and please review.


	16. Chapter 15 The Sky Clears

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Fifteen

The Sky Clears

I fell to my knees, exhaustion filling my joints and clouding my mind. It was all for nothing. So much pointless death and destruction. Alaric fell from my hand and hit the blood soaked ground. Slowly I reached up to my head and pushed up my visor so I could get some fresh air into my lungs. The air was filled with smoke and blood that almost choked me. I stayed there in that state of despair for what felt like hours until I saw something in the corner of my eye. My head turned towards it and to my absolute horror I saw a wall of green smoke racing across the field. As it approached I saw that it wasn't smoke, but spectres. Ghosts. Trying to battle the fear that was taking hold of me I picked up Alaric and prepared to make a last stand. They swarmed closer to me like a wave but then veered off, charging towards the Orcs. I didn't know what was happening and I needed to find out. When I looked towards where the ghosts had come from I smiled. Fighting in the midst of the ghost army against the Orcs were three people I knew. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas. I knew then that these ghosts were our allies and we were saved.

'What are you waiting for John?' I heard the hard voice of Jason shout at me.

I looked around and saw him walking towards me. In one hand he held his sword and in the other he carried a Haradrim scimitar.

'I'm waiting for these ghosts to finish off the Orcs,' I answered him.

He shook his head and then started walking towards the nearest Orcs, hoping to get a few more kills in. My smile then started to fade away when I remembered Theoden. Hurrying back to where the king lay I found Eowyn next to her uncle. I didn't hear what they said but I saw on the kings face was a tiny smile. He looked as if he was a at peace. Slowly I stopped and knelt next to him. The king was dead. Eowyn looked down at her uncle and tears trickled from her eyes. Pure despair filled her soul as she grabbed onto his body and let all of her sadness fall from her.

Looking around me I saw similar scenes playing out across the battlefield as men searched for their friends. Two riders were approaching me then. Robert and Markus. Behind them was another rider, Father Harold. The look on his face was one of great solemnity. After a while I saw him climb from his horse and step over to a dying man to give out the last rights.

'John,' Robert asked me, 'where is the king?'

I shook my head and pointed to where his body lay. When Robert saw him he hung his head low.

'How many?' I asked Robert.

'I don't know,' he answered. 'Of our own perhaps a quarter of the knights and nearly all the men at arms.'

'It's a complete waist,' Markus said as he climbed from his horse. When he looked at Theoden's body he saw the kings niece. 'What is she doing here?'

'I don't know,' I answered as I looked at her. She was shaking as she sobbed over the kings body. 'But she killed the Witch King.'

'What?' Markus asked. 'How?'

'Skill,' I answered.

Eowyn still held onto her uncle so Markus and I walked across the battlefield towards Aragorn. He stood there holding a new sword in his hand. Standing next to him was Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf, who had just left the city. When his eyes came to Markus and I he hung his head in sorrow. I didn't know why he did that. My eyes though were soon fixed upon the army of ghosts that Aragorn was facing.

The ghosts were all men dressed in armour and carrying weapons. They were decaying, looking like walking corpses instead of men. Leading them was a ghost warrior wearing a crown.

'Release us,' he hissed at Aragorn.

'Bad idea,' I heard Gimli grunt. 'Very handy in a tight spot these lads, despite the fact they're dead.'

'You gave us your word,' the King of the Dead almost growled. He sounded as if he'd been in pain for a long time.

'I hold your oath fulfilled,' Aragorn told him. 'Go. Be at peace.'

At that moment the ghost all shared a face filled with peace and tranquillity. They smiled as a wind blew across the battlefield that carried the ghosts away. They faded into nothing as they were truly allowed to die.

Knowing that our new allies were gone now I turned on the spot slightly and saw an Orc banner planted in the ground. On its tattered black cloth I saw a crudely painted red eye. It looked so much like the one I saw in the Palantir that hung from the Basilica. Felling anger rise in me I raised my sword and struck at it, tearing apart the cloth. My foot smashed into the wooden pole it hung from and it fell to the ground.

'Never,' I said under my breath, remembering the vision. I would not let that happen.

'NO!'

A pained voice screeched across the silent battlefield. Every head snapped towards it and we saw Eomer holding the body of Eowyn in his arms. She was still as a statue as if dead.

'Good God no,' I said as I, Markus and Aragorn rushed towards them.

Aragorn reached her first and felt for a pulse.

'What's wrong with her?' I asked Aragorn.

'The Black Breath,' he answered. 'It's the curse of the Nazgul that infected her.'

'Can we save her?'

'We have to get her to the Houses of Healing,' Aragorn told me quickly. 'Eomer, let her go. We have to save her.'

Eomer looked down at his sister, sadness covering his face. He shakily nodded, trying to hold back his tears to show strength for his people. Two of the Royal Guard lifted Eowyn and they moved as fast as they could towards the city.

We heard a horn blast through the smoke filled air and we both turned to face Jason standing next to Robert and Gregory, holding the standard.

'ENGLISH COMPANY TOGETHER!' Jason shouted as loud as he could.

At one what was left of the company either walked or rode towards the standard. I saw the men I recognised. Edmund the Merchant on his white horse and wearing ornately carved armour with wings on the side of his helmet, Isaac Turner on foot, looking like one of the Rohirrim. Some blood smeared his sword. Everyone looked weary from the battle. In their eyes was a ghostly look as they stared at the thousands of men who lay dead. When we were all gathered around Robert on his horse.

'We have won the day men but not the war. Now we will see to our dead and make sure they receive the burial they deserve. John, Markus, you two will go into to city and find James. Tell him that I need to speak with him as soon as I can.'

'Yes Robert,' I answered him as my cousin and I walked towards the city.

As we walked through the city gates no one stopped us. We found the bodies of hundreds of Orcs littering the courtyard mixed with the bodies of Trolls. A few Gondorian soldiers were loading the dead onto carts but we didn't see many people.

'It must have been a massive fight,' I said to Markus as we walked through a breach in the barricade.

'I think you're right. Where do you think we'll find him?'

'We'll just ask some of the locals. They might know.'

That was easier said than done. Apart from the men in the courtyard we found no one. When we passed another barricade we found yet another troll dead in the streets. Also there were bodies of men on the ground but about ten of the bodies were not regular Gondorian soldiers. They were Citadel Guard. One of the bodies was an older man with long greying hair and some stubble on his face. Markus and I were about to walk on when my cousin ran towards a pile of rubble nearby. I followed him and saw him kneeling next to an Orc body.

'What's wrong?' I asked him.

Markus didn't say a word. Instead he grabbed the hilt of a sword that was stuck in the Orc and pulled it out. When I saw the blade I remembered the sword.

'Father,' Markus sobbed. 'He wouldn't have left this.'

'Where is he then?' I asked as I shook my head looking for him.

'MARKUS! JOHN!'

Rickard.

I saw my other cousin running towards us. He wasn't wearing his helmet and his armour was splattered with Orc blood. He ran towards us with open arms and then caught us both in a vice like hug.

'Thank God you're alive,' he said as a few tears leaked from his eyes. 'Thank God.'

'Rickard,' Markus looked at his brother with a stern stare, 'where's father?'

When he said that Rickard's shoulders slumped low and his head hung low. I only noticed then that his eyes were bloodshot.

'He's been hurt,' he answered. 'Badly. He's in the Houses of Healing now.'

Markus and I shared a look with each other and then the three of us were running towards the Houses of Healing. We quickly past Aragorn and the others.

'What happened?' Markus shouted as we ran.

'He was battling a Troll in the street. He killed it but it hurt him bad. When we realized he was missing Denethor and a captain named Beregond lead a company of the Citadel Guard down to the city and fought their way through to him. Denethor died buying time for him to get away.'

'Christ,' I cursed.

On the highest levels we found hundreds of people crammed into houses and inside tents. Not hundreds, thousands. All of them trapped together to stay away from the brutal battle. After a long run we made it to the Houses of Healing. It was overflowing with thousands of wounded and dying men. The screams. I will never forget them. When you've heard a man screaming in agony, knowing he was about to die, it scars your soul. It's something that once you hear it you can never forget. The air smelled of blood, boiled water and sharp medicines. As we walked through the crowded Houses of Healing I saw healers carrying out buckets filled with amputated limbs and others carrying tools for the job. The healers, with their aprons covered by blood, looked more like butchers than anything else.

'Where is he?' I asked Rickard.

'They gave him a private room at the back. Come on.'

We navigated our way around beds where hundreds of healers tended to the wounded. Eventually we found the door to my uncle's room and Rickard banged on the door. After a moment an angry looking healer threw the door open.

'What do you want?'

'How is my father?'

'Not good,' he answered. 'All the ribs on his left side are broken and the bones in his left arm below the elbow are shattered.'

'Will he live?' I asked desperately.

'I don't know. His arm may never recover. We'll have to amputate.'

'You'll do no such thing!' Markus shouted. 'You can't seriously want to cut off his arm!'

'I have no choice boy,' the Healer shouted and slammed the door shut.

None of us said anything for a moment. We just looked at each other. Rickard was the first to move. He turned around, faced the wall and slammed his fist into it. A few shards of rock were knocked off the wall but Rickard paid no mind. A young woman approached us and told us we had to leave. Markus was about to argue but I stopped him. We left the Houses of Healing and stood outside.

'What do we do?' I asked Markus.

He didn't say anything for a moment until he made his mind up.

'We go to Robert and tell him what's happened.'

'You don't know all of it,' Rickard told us, all the merriment gone from his voice like leaves in the autumn.

'What do you mean?'

'He took command in the battle,' Rickard answered. 'He lead us here and he invented the Hand Cannon.'

Instead of answering with a happy quip I shook my head.

'Let's go,' Markus said quietly as we left the city.

Outside the city we found what was left of the army that could still walk was digging pits for the mass graves. We found the English Company not far from where we last saw them. Laid out roughly where the company was digging a long trench were twenty two bodies. Planted in the ground was our standard. A little blood and dirt stained it and a few holes were cut in it. The English who fell in the battle. I shook my head when I saw them. When Robert saw us he quickly walked towards us.

'I see you survived Rickard,' the old knight said to my cousin and then looked at Markus. 'Where's James?'

'The Houses of Healing,' I answered him. 'They're going to amputate his arm.'

'Good God,' Robert said as he turned away from us. 'The poor man.'

'What can we do to help here?' I asked him, hoping to take my mind away from my uncle.

'Nothing. We've got enough men digging the graves. Although, we can't find that damn merchant. Can you find him?'

'Of course,' I answered.

I went alone looking for him. As I looked out across the fields I saw nothing but death. At last I found him where we fought the Haradrim Cavalry. He was crouching next to a body of a Haradrim.

'Edmund,' I said to get his attention.

'Ah John, I'm glad you turned up. You can help me with this.'

'With what?' I asked as I saw him examining a ring he pulled from one of the dead mens fingers. 'Why am I not surprised?'

'Well we need money John and these men aren't going to need their jewels again.'

'I know. I did the same once but I couldn't look at what I took again.'

'I'm not keeping this. I'm going to sell it.'

'Edmund, Robert was wondering where you were. I think you'd better get back to the rest of the company.'

Edmund sighed as he stood up from the body.

'Very well. Leave some of the good stuff for me. Oh wait.'

Edmund quickly crouched down and pulled a large scimitar from the ground. The hilt was golden and decorated with rubies.

'I think I'll keep this,' he said as he shaved it into his belt.

When we walked back to the English Company the pit for our dead had been dug and the dead had been placed inside it. One of the company had made a large wooden cross to mark the burial sight of our Company. Father Harold was there and I knew it was time for the funeral. I joined the company as Father Harold began the committals.

'For as much as it has pleased Almighty God to take out of this world the souls of Howard Moise, Nigs Hard, Robert Randull, Andrew Tyler, Albert Tyler, Daniel Ironsmith, David Smith, Stephan Goisfrid, Joseph Fendrel, Thomas Fendrel, Thomas Elyas, Allen Ranulph, Hugh Otes, Squire Arnold Waters, Count Philip of New Bride, Hamnet Hill, Jack Marshal, James Lowe, Arthur Peck, Donald Lavander, Jase Crow and Simon Langley, we therefore commit their bodies to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, looking for that blessed hope when the Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God, and the dead in Christ shall rise first. Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so shall we ever be with the Lord in the air, and so shall we ever be with the Lord, wherefore comfort ye one another with these words.'

We had our heads bowed in respect for the dead as the grave began to be filled in. As we stood by the grave side I saw that around us the field was being cleared and the Orc bodies were being cremated on massive pyres. When the grave was filled in we departed to set up camp but all I could think of in my head was my uncle.

 _Father in heaven, please let him live._

AN: Okay I know this wasn't my best chapter yet but I hope liked it. After all, I'm not an evil lunatic who enjoys torturing you with rubbish.

Also, I tried to write a death scene for Denethor but I just couldn't. Sorry if anyone wanted him to have a cool death but I just couldn't write it. Sorry.

Review responses:

Kiya: Thanks for another review. I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I think that one of the main problems with fanfiction is that the reader knows what is going to happen, that's why I have a lot of respect for those writers who go completely AU. I suppose to keep it so the audience doesn't know what's going to happen is to write a fanfic sequel (Hint, hint).

Stephen King: Thanks a lot Steve. I love long reviews.

Halloween Servant: Thanks for the 10/10 opinion.

As ever, please review and I promise you that the next chapter will be better.

Have a nice day.


	17. Chapter 16 Destiny Ahead

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Sixteen

Destiny Ahead

The city had been devastated. Nearly all the buildings on the first level had been burned to the ground along with everything in them. The upper levels were mostly intact but a few were damaged. Some of the damage included windows shattering from the explosion. It would take a long time to fully repair Minas Tirith.

It was near mid day two days after the battle ended. I, my cousins and the Council were in my uncles chambers. He had been given a modest apartment in Minas Tirith on the sixth level of the city. It was next door to the apartment Gandalf had been given. My uncles apartment had a living room, bedroom, kitchen and a balcony which overlooked the city. The Council was sitting around a large circular table in the living room while Rickard and I sat a little way back in comfortable arm chairs. Although we weren't members of the Council my uncle insisted on us being there. There was also a new member of the Council present, Edmund. He was a good businessman so my uncle appointed him Treasurer. I noticed that Edmund had his recently acquired scimitar hanging from his belt. Standing next to the door was a servant and a Healer.

'Do we agree to continue fighting in this war until the very end?' my uncle asked the Council.

My uncle, I had not seen him so weak before. He did all he could to look strong for the Council and the Company but his eyes gave him away. They were so tired from all his years of fighting. He needed rest but he wouldn't let himself rest. He didn't even let his greatest injury slow him down. In the meeting he had not even mentioned his arm to anyone.

'So much blood has been spilt,' Father Harold lamented. 'We cannot let them die in vain.'

'I agree with the Priest,' said Jason as he drank some wine. 'Good wine this,' he said as he studied the crimson drink.

'Does anyone else have anything to say on the matter?' my uncle asked the Council. They all shook their heads so my uncle moved onto the next matter. 'For our dead in the battle I propose that we purchase a monument for them which is more significant than the wooden cross that is there for now.'

'What's wrong with the wood one?' asked Jason.

'It was only meant as a temporary measure,' said Robert.

'I propose that we arrange a stone cross to be erected there. Edmund has researched the cost.'

'Judging by the amount that stone is costs at the moment in Gondor I believe that we can buy the monument for a pound,' he said as he studied a book in front of him filled with calculations. Perched on his nose was a pair of spectacles.

'All in favour?' my uncle asked and they unanimously agreed.

'What is else is there?' asked Robert.

'That is all for now unless anyone has anything they want mentioned.'

When no one answered him my uncle was about to declare the meeting over when someone knocked at the door.

'Let them in,' my uncle told the servant.

She opened the door and I saw Pippin there. He was dressed in his uniform and was smiling a little.

'Aragorn sent me,' he said to the servant in a cheerful voice.

'Let him in,' my uncle instructed.

Pippin walked into the room and stopped next to my uncle.

'Aragorn wants to speak with the Council about something important.'

'And what is this important thing?' asked Robert.

'He wouldn't say but he told me to fetch you.'

'Very well. Where does he want to see us?'

'In the Citadel. The throne room.'

'Tell him we'll be there as soon as we can.'

'I will sir.'

With that Pippin left the room quickly.

'We better get going,' my uncle said as he tried to stand up and grunted, a pained look coming to his face. 'Markus, Rickard, help me up.'

His two sons both helped him stand up. Not only was his arm wounded but his right leg was cracked in a few places. It made it painful to walk on and he had to use a walking stick. When he was properly standing with his stick he started walking towards the door with the rest of us following him.

As our group walked through towards the Citadel some passing soldiers waved at my uncle while a few just stared at him. When this happened my uncle tried to make himself look stronger. The people of the city looked to him with great respect. Eventually we walked into the citadel and I, like the rest of the Council were amazed by what we saw. We had never seen the citadel yet so it impressed us. As we walked by the White tree I noticed a few flowers starting to grow on it.

When we entered the Tower of Ecthelion we saw a group already leaving. Eomer, Gimli, Legolas, Merry and Pippin. When the Council entered the Tower we were greeted by Aragorn who was standing next to a stone column. He looked as bedraggled and weary as he always had been but there was also a look of responsibility in his eyes. Standing next to him was Gandalf.

'Welcome,' Aragorn said to the Council. 'Thank you for coming.'

'It was no problem Aragorn,' my uncle told him. 'Might I ask what Faramir's condition is? I understand he was wounded in my rescue.'

'He is recovering,' Aragorn answered him. 'The Healers will discharge him from the Houses of Healing in the next few days.'

'Excellent. I understand that Lady Eowyn was injured defeating the Witch King. What of her?'

'The same,' he answered. 'She is lucky to be alive now. Eomer will send a rider to Edoras tomorrow morning to tell Edoras where she is.'

Excuse me but why did you wish to see us?' Robert asked him.

'I needed to speak with you for a few reasons. Firstly, we feel that it is time for you to learn how we plan to win the war.'

'About time,' Jason commented.

After that Gandalf explained what happened after the One Ring was given to Bilbo Baggins. We learned of Frodo Baggins who volunteered to carry the Ring to Mordor and of the Fellowship of the Ring. We also learned of the Breaking of the Fellowship and how Frodo, with his friend Sam, were travelling into Mordor alone to throw the Ring into Mount Doom, the one place it could be destroyed.

'Let me see if I heard that right,' said Jason. 'Our only hope of winning this war is two Hobbits. They are now going into the middle of the Sauron's land, alone, that's filled with Christ knows how many Orcs and other beasts, to climb up a mountain and throw the Ring into it without being caught. Is that right?'

'Yes,' answered Gandalf.

Jason rolled his eyes shook his head.

'I'm going to jump off a cliff,' he said and then turned to leave but Robert stopped him.

'I know there isn't much hope,' Gandalf told him, 'but we need to believe in Frodo.'

'What do we know about Frodo now?' my uncle asked the wizard.

'Unfortunately he has passed beyond my sight.'

'Did Frodo know that he was going on a suicide mission?' I snapped at Gandalf.

'No. Hobbits are a gentle folk. They have seen so little of the suffering in the world.'

'I do not doubt the courage of Hobbits,' my uncle began, 'but they do not stand a chance.'

'Which is why we will give them a chance,' said Aragorn. 'We will draw out Sauron's armies, empty his lands by marching on the Black Gates emptying his lands of Orcs. He will focus on the army facing him so perhaps he won't see two Hobbits walking towards Mount Doom.'

'It's risky,' Robert commented. 'It's a gamble.'

'I have no right to ask this of you,' Aragorn began, 'but I do ask. Will you help us? Will you join us in our march on Mordor?'

None of the Council said a word. Instead they looked at my uncle.

'Not long ago we agreed to keep fighting in this war until the end. The English Company will be proud to fight. I only wish I could go with them.'

'Thank you James. You have sacrificed so much already for Gondor in this war. You will be rewarded with lands in Gondor, but there is another duty I ask of you James. Faramir is the rightful Steward of Gondor but his injuries leave him in the Houses of Healing. I am asking you to govern this city while I am gone or until Faramir has healed enough to leave the Houses. Will you do this for me?'

'I will,' my uncle answered at once. 'When will the army leave for the Black Gate?'

'Tomorrow,' Aragorn answered. 'And it will be led by the King of Gondor.'

For a few seconds I was confused. Gondor didn't have a king. Then I realized who he meant. He meant himself. He was the King of Gondor. A king would once again sit on the throne of Gondor. The rest of the Council also realized what he meant. Gondor would have a king.

'Go and prepare for the battle to come. We leave by midday tomorrow.'

We left the Citadel and, while the rest of the Council went down to our camp outside the city, my uncle, cousins and I went back to my uncle's apartment. We sat down in some arm chairs while the servant presented each of us with a glass of wine.

'Jason was right,' Rickard commented. 'This is a good wine.'

'I needed to speak with you all in private,' my uncle said and then looked at the Healer and servant. Understanding what he meant they both left the apartment. 'I am proud of you all. I truly am. I pray that you will survive the battle to come and I wish I could join you there.'

'You have a much greater responsibility,' Markus reminded him. 'You helped lead this city to victory.'

'And how many lives were the price of our victory?' he asked us all. 'When I usurped Denethor all of those men were my responsibility and each death was a failure for me.'

'Don't say that,' I told him. 'Each of those men knew what they were fighting for.'

'Did they?' he asked me as he slumped in his chair, his years suddenly showing on his face. 'I ordered conscription. So many were just boys who hadn't learned to live and had never held a sword. I wonder if it was worth it. I have decided to write a letter to each of the dead soldier's families. It is all I can do.'

'Father,' Rickard said to him, 'you can always regret, but you have to live.'

A chuckle escaped the old man's lips and he smiled.

'Oh, the number of times your mother said that to me.'

'Can you blame her?'

'No. Remember, that as soon as we can we will ride north to Erebor and you will meet your grandfather. Now go. You have a long journey ahead of you and a hard battle which you will win.'

Rickard and Markus got up and left the room but I stayed behind.

'Is something wrong John?' he asked me.

'No uncle. I just wondered if I could use some paper and inc.'

'Of course you can. Might I ask why?'

'I wanted to send a letter to a friend in Edoras,' I answered him.

'Would this friend be the young lady you kissed while in a drunken stupor?' he asked and I felt my cheeks turn a shade of red.

'Yes her.'

'You'll find the inc, pen and paper in that cupboard,' he told me and pointed at a cupboard on a nearby wall.

I took a sheet of paper, a bottle of ink and a quill and sat at the Council table to start writing. It didn't take me long to write it but I think it was good enough.

 _Sunniva_

 _I hope that you receive this letter. I survived the battle at Minas Tirith but by the time you read this I will have already marched to battle again. The battle I am about to fight will be a hard one but, God willing, I will survive it. If I do I will try to see you again as soon as I can and I will write another letter to you. I miss you greatly and I pray that God will keep you and your brother safe. Goodbye._

 _John._

When I finished the letter I sealed it with wax and then gave it to Eomer. He said he would send it to Edoras with his message about Eowyn.

After that I journeyed down to our camp outside the city walls. We were camped next to where we buried our dead. As I made my way past the wooden cross that stood there I found Father Harold comforting one of the few remaining men-at-arms.

'They have both gone to a better place my son. They will never have to fear war or death again,' he said to the man who was crying.

'I hope so,' I sobbed and then walked away.

Father Harold shook his head and sighed.

'Poor man,' he said when he saw me walking to him.

'Who did he loose?'

'That man's name is Mathew Fendrel. Both of his brothers were killed battling the Black Serpents Bodyguards.'

'Damn. Do you think it's worth it in the end?'

'I think that this world and our world would be a better place if there was no war,' he answered. 'Hopefully the next battle will end it all.'

'I certainly hope I won't have to fight again for a while. Do you think God wanted us to die here?'

'I think we came here for a reason. I was speaking with Gandalf yesterday and he spoke of your grandfather. From what he said I think that he took part in something important just like we are.'

'So you think we were sent here for that. Something important?'

'Perhaps. All will be revealed in time to us John.'

'I feel like my life has never been so important Father. I know it sounds strange but I've only felt like this a few times. The day I became a knight, my sword was blessed by our local priest. My uncle was there and my cousins cheered when I was knighted.'

'Keep a hold of those happy memories. They will guide you through this war.'

'Inspiration words Father.'

'A friend said it to me when he was drunk,' he said with a little smile.

I couldn't help laughing.

'I'm not joking John. The fool thought that the communion wine was spoiled so he decided to check it.'

'Thank you for your kind words Father. I'm going to get some food with my cousins. Bye Father.'

'Goodbye John.'

As I walked through the small camp my mind drifted to the next battle coming at us. I wondered how many would die.

Before we left Minas Tirith the next morning the Council of England met one last time. I will not record the discussion here as I was not present at the meeting. I will however tell you what the Council agreed upon. It was agreed that the remaining men-at-arms, (Jason Bridge, Edmund Howard (the merchant), Mathew Fendrel and Jack Clark) were to be knighted before the battle. The reason for this was to change the English Company into a new force; The Order of English Knights. It was agreed that if we won the battle the Council would request permission from Aragorn to establish an order of knights which followed our Code of Chivalry. It was also decided that, if we won the battle, we would establish the Catholic Church and Christian faith in Middle Earth. Father Harold would help create a constitution for this church but they agreed to remain as close to our traditional faith as possible. That said it appeared that he would be the chief cleric of our church in Middle Earth, more than likely a Bishop. The final agreement made by the Council was to build a church inside Minas Tirith after the battle was won.

I remember the day we marched out of Minas Tirith as if it was yesterday. Before we left my uncle spoke with my cousins and I.

'Rickard, Markus, John. I wish I could join you in the battle to come. Promise me you will be safe.'

'We will.'

'Of course.'

'I'll try.'

'If you don't return I may be a broken man. May God protect you Rickard, may He be with you Markus and may He guide you John.'

'He will,' I told him.

We shed no tears at the farewell. We smiled, hugged and he wished us luck again before we had to join the army. Our force numbered just over six thousand men. Roughly half were of Rohan and half were of Gondor. Those who had horses rode them but most of the men marched. It was an incredible feeling, riding out in one long column towards the Black Gates. At the head of the column was Aragorn. No longer wearing the rough garb of a ranger but the plate and surcoat of a king.

AN: Well I hoped you enjoyed that one.

Review Response Time:

ATP-Well I hope the Council's decision on the future of the Company will answer your question on Father Harold becoming a Priest. Again, thanks for the review.

Kiya-I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. As to that typo, oops. For the record I tried writing a death scene for Denethor at least FIVE times before I gave up. The full future of the English Company and of John Harris will be revealed at the end of this story. That said, I have a fanfic that I need to do after this one ends. All will be revealed in time :)

See you next week.


	18. Chapter 17 The Battle of the Black Gate

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Seventeen

The Battle of the Black Gates

March Twenty fourth. That date is to be remembered forever in the history of Middle Earth. Personally I was confused as to how the people of Middle Earth and England used the same calendar, a mystery I still haven't uncovered after twenty years. For the rest of Middle Earth though it will be remembered as The Battle of the Black Gates, the day the fate of Middle Earth was decided.

The army of six thousand had marched for days on end to get to the Black Gates. On the morning of battle I rode near the head of the column with the Council of England and Rickard. Our standard was being carried by Gregory again, as he had carried it in our last battle. While my uncle was in Minas Tirith Robert was in command of the Company, no, Order of English Knights, so I once again took a place on the Council. My new horse, a chestnut destrier I named Augustus, was well behaved and followed my commands but I still wished I was riding Julius.

'Here we go again,' Jason grunted as we rode closer to our destination. Since becoming a knight he hadn't changed in any way at all.

'Are you glad to be a knight?' I asked him.

'I don't think it matters,' he answered bluntly. 'I can hardly remember the Ten Commandments so how do you expect me to follow chivalry?'

Before I could answer him we rounded a cliff corner and came in sight of the Black Gates. They were enormous things, made from black rock with battlements on top and towers on each side. The gates sat in the middle of a pass, literally blocking the way into Mordor.

'And so we arrive at the Gates of Hell,' I heard Markus say to himself as he gazed upon the Gates.

'Could be worse,' Rickard told him.

'How?'

'I'll tell you when we win.'

'Kill count?' Jason asked us.

'I'm in,' I agreed and both of my cousins did as well.

'Who won at the last one?' asked Markus.

'Me and your brother are tied,' Jason told us. 'Forty each.'

'I'm at second,' I told them. 'Thirty four.'

'Thirty three,' said Markus.

'So let's agree to battle our contest again,' I told them.

'Count me in on that,' I heard Gimli shout over at us.

'I will join you as well,' Legolas agreed.

When we all filled into the space in front of the Black Gates the officers ordered their soldiers to their places. The plan was to last as long as possible so the army formed into a tight circle in front of the Gates and on a low hill. We also decided to not use cavalry, instead we decided to all fight on foot as there would be little room for cavalry to charge in the tight space. The only ones who remained mounted were the two kings, those who had joined the Fellowship of the Ring and the Council, apart from Father Harold who was waiting off the battlefield. We were waiting ahead of the army but nothing happened. There was silence.

'What are those buggers waiting for?' I heard Jason growl.

'Maybe they're scared of us,' Edmund suggested.

He wore his finely engraved armour and was getting ready to use his newly acquired scimitar.

Aragorn seemed to be wondering what was taking so long so he urged his horse forwards. We followed him up to the Black Gate and I felt my hand drifting to Alaric. I was dressed in my armour and my poleaxe was strapped to my back. We stopped just a few feet from the gates and still there was nothing.

'I think you were right about the Gates of Hell Markus,' I told my cousin, nerves filling me.

I looked back to the army and saw the rest of the knights standing at the front. With them was Rickard, taking a few practice swings with his sword.

'Let the Lord of the Black Lands come forth!' Aragorn shouted at the gates. 'Let justice be done upon him!'

Again there was nothing. Then I heard a groaning sound as the gate opened a small amount. I felt my hand grip around Alaric as I prepared for an Orc. Instead of an Orc though came out what I thought was a man on a black horse. He wore long black robes and a black helmet. But when he turned to face us I saw that whatever it was it wasn't a man. All that I could see of its body was its mouth. Its skin was pale and cut badly. Its teeth were large and yellow, rotting away and blood was dripping down them.

'My master, Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome,' it said and then gave us a disgusting, rotting smile.

'Do you have a tooth ache?' Jason asked sarcastically.

The messenger ignored Jason and spoke again.

'Is there any in this route who will treat with me?'

'We do not come to treat with Sauron,' Gandalf told him aggressively. 'Faithless and accursed. Tell your master this. The armies of Mordor are to disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return.'

'And tell him that his plans of conquering other worlds must be abandoned,' Robert snapped at him.

'Which means kindly bugger off,' Jason clarified.

'He can agree to these terms or be destroyed,' Robert continued.

'Ah. The English Rabble,' the messenger said and smiled. 'You and your people have been a thorn in my master's side for too long now. He has been looking forward to revenge against your people since Bartholomew Harris aided in defeating our forces at the Battle of the Five Armies. My master wanted me to tell you this. You will all die.'

'Go to Hell,' Jason growled at him.

'Enough,' Gandalf told the two of them.

'Old gray beard,' the messenger said with a sinister smile. 'I have a token I was bidden to show thee.'

He reached into his robes and pulled out a shirt of chain mail. The metal shined like silver pearls and gold adorned it. It was small though. Too small for a man. Perhaps it could fit a Dwarf or a child or a. My jaw dropped when I realized. It was fit for a Hobbit.

'Frodo,' Pippin gasped.

The messenger tossed the mail at Gandalf who caught it and looked at it with disbelief.

'Silence,' he told Pippin.

'NO!' Merry sobbed.

'Silence!'

'The Halfling was dear to thee I see,' the messenger said with sadistic glee. 'Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host.'

I had never met Frodo Baggins before but at the thought of a Hobbit, such a small innocent being, suffering the torments of the Orcs made my blood boil and I wasn't the only one. Jason was getting ready to sink his weapon into the messengers face but Robert stopped him.

'Who would have thought one so small could endure so much pain? That he did Gandalf. He did.'

'Tell your master this,' Robert said at last. 'He will harm no one else. He will die this day!'

The messenger laughed, hackled at Roberts declaration. Aragorn rode towards the messenger who looked at him mockingly.

'And who is this? Isildur's heir? It takes more to be a king than a broken Elvish blade...'

With an angry roar Aragorn sliced the servant of Sauron's head clean off. The body fell to the ground and the horse galloped away.

'I guess that concludes negotiations,' Gimli deadpanned.

'It's not over,' Markus said quickly. 'That thing only said that one Hobbit was found when two were in there. If one is dead the other may still be able to complete the mission.'

'Frodo is not dead,' Aragorn snapped. 'And neither is Sam. I will not believe it. I will not.'

The Black Gates creaked open again and all our eyes were fixed upon it. As they opened the sound of thousands of marching feet thundered through the air. Orcs in their tens of thousands marched out of the Gates towards us.

'Fall back,' Aragorn ordered our small group and we galloped back towards the army.

I climbed off of Augustus and pulled my poleaxe into my hands. The rest of the Council climbed from their horses and we took our positions in the battle line. I stood next to Rickard and Markus. Markus and Rickard held their swords while I held my poleaxe. Robert and Jason took their places further along the line. The only one left on a horse was Aragorn. At seeing the enemy force marching on us some on the men began to shift backwards. Knowing that the courage of the men was about to break Aragorn roused the men with a speech.

'Hold your ground!' he shouted. 'Hold your ground!' Aragorn rode up the length of the line and back rallying his men. 'Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, of England, my brothers! I see in your eye the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails. When we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship but it is not this day. An hour of wolves, of shattered shields when the age of men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear I bid you stand,' he held his sword aloft, 'Men of the West!'

At his words every man who hadn't drawn his weapon pulled out his sword and readied himself for battle. I smiled as confidence grew within me and I felt my courage spread from my heart.

Then something changed. A strange pale orange light covered the army and I looked up towards Mordor. There, upon a tower of imposing black stone, was a ball of red hot fire. As I looked at it I saw that it wasn't a ball of fire. In the centre of the fire was a black slit, like the eye of a cat.

'Good God,' I gasped.

'What is it?' Markus asked me.

'The Eye,' I told my cousin. 'It's Sauron.'

His eyes went wide and he looked at our enemy. Sauron, the one who had caused so much suffering and death in his quest for domination, looked at us. Following him was a massive army. Our only hope of victory were two Hobbits who may be dead.

'Good luck,' Rickard said, ignoring what I said.

Aragorn had dismounted and now stood in the front line not ten feet from us. Standing with him was Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas and the Hobbits. A little away from him was Eomer. No one made a sound as we waited for the order to attack. The Orc army had encircled us completely. There was no way out. The Orcs snarled at us and I kept my eyes focused on them.

A new sound crawled through the air. A cruel voice I had heard once before.

' _Aragorn,'_ the voice of Sauron hissed.

Slowly Aragorn took a few steps forward as if walking towards his destiny.

' _Elessar.'_

Aragorn turned around to face his army. Softly he said our reason for fighting. So simple but so honest.

'For Frodo and Sam.'

He then raised his sword and charged forwards. The first to follow him were our two Hobbits. Shouting their friends names as they ran they were the first to follow the King of Gondor into battle.

The rest of the soldiers roared their own battle cries as they ran. I slammed shut the visor of my helmet as I ran forwards with my cousins on either side of me. The English sprinted towards the enemy army as fast as they could. I was only feet from the Orcs as I jumped into the fight. I raised my poleaxe and swung it down into the first Orc I found. I sliced it from the collar bone down its front smashing its ribcage. I stabbed the next with the pointed head of my weapon and then another. I swung down with the blunt end of my weapon caving in an Orcs skull. Quickly I spun the weapon in my hand and stabbed with the sharp butt of my poleaxe into the belly of the next Orc who opposed me. Then another Orc charged at me. I slammed it in the face with the shaft of my poleaxe breaking its nose. I caught the Orc in a neck lock and pulled hard snapping its neck. I looked around me. Orcs were grappling our men, pulling them to the ground and gutting them. Not far away Robert was cutting Orcs apart with slashes to the neck and face. Next to him Jason was battling with his English sword and Haradrim scimitar. With one sword he blocked and with the other attacked. He punched and Orc in the face sending it to the ground and he slashed it across the neck with the scimitar splashing blood across the ground. Markus was sending quick and lethal stabs into Orcs while Rickard hacked into them with all the aggression he could muster. That said, all was not well.

A knight in full plate not far from me was pinned on the ground by three Orcs while another laid into him with a stiletto knife. Jack Clark, one of the men-at-arms we made a knight) was stabbed through the guts by an Orc spear. Edmund was a skilled fighter but he was being pushed backwards as three Orcs attacked him. I rushed to help him and impaled and Orc from behind. Edmund slashed with his sword killing another Orc and the last one was finished off by Rickard who came in to help.

'Nothing like a bloodbath in the morning!' he shouted as he stabbed another Orc.

An Orc armed with an axe rushed me. I tried to block the blow with the shaft of my poleaxe but the blow shattered the shaft. I drew Alaric from the scabbard as quickly as I could and managed to block the next blow. It swung at me again and dodged it before stabbing down into the Orcs foot. It screamed as it fell to the ground. It was finished off by a quick stab down to the chest from me.

I was about to attack another Orc when an all too familiar screech filled the air. I sadly looked up to the sky to see them. The Wraiths had come. All eight of them were descending from the sky with their talons pointed at us. I didn't know how to fight them. They were evil. But I didn't have to fight them on their beasts. We had help. A new screech filled the air as a massive beast of the sky attacked the first Fell Beast. It was an Eagle. A giant Eagle. Then more of them came. Six Eagles descended from the sky and attacked the Wraiths. I could have stared at them for hours but an Orc charged me. I swung and killed the beast and I was dragged back into the battle.

The next Orc I slashed in the shoulder and black blood sprayed everywhere. One of the Beasts screeched again and I looked up to see something terrible. One of the Beasts had rolled over in the air and the Wraith riding it fell. The black robed figure fell from the air, crashing into the army fifty feet from where I stood. For a few seconds it disappeared amongst the soldiers but then it rose up like a sea monster from the depths. It drew its sword and attacked the soldiers near it. Eight soldiers, one of them a knight, was killed in seconds as it unleashed a furious attack. Knowing I had to help I ran towards it, pushing through the mass of soldiers trying to escape the Wraith. I realized that I wasn't alone in deciding to battle the Wraith. Rickard was already there. The Wraith swung at him but he blocked the blow with his shield. The shield cracked down the middle and it was barely intact. Rickard attacked swinging his sword at the towering enemy. The Wraith blocked each blow expertly and then attacked again. Rickard instinctively blocked with his shield but the shield shattered completely. The Wraith kept swinging its sword at my cousin who blocked every blow with his sword until one great blow forced him to the ground. My cousin dropped his sword in the brawl and the Wraith swung down to kill Rickard. He rolled out of the way but the Wrath kept swinging and Rickard was only just able to avoid every attack. The it looked like it was over when the Wraith pinned my cousin to the ground with its foot and then raised its sword ready to deliver the killing blow.

I had to help so I unhooked the war hammer from my belt and hurled it at the Wraith. The weapon spun through the air and it crashed into the wraiths sword knocking its aim off. The sword crashed into the ground and Rickard pushed himself up grabbing the first weapon he could find. It was a Rohirric axe. I joined my cousin as we faced off against our enemy.

'Good luck,' he said to me and we charged forwards.

The Wraith easily blocked our attacks and we couldn't push him back at all. My cousin prepared to attack again when an Orc rushed him. My cousin was pulled back into the main battle and I was accidently left alone against the Wraith. I spun my sword and took in a deep breath. I swung my sword but the Wraith blocked it and then it attacked me. I ducked down to avoid the attack but it swung again. I parried the blow and moved in to stab it but the Wraith side stepped me and sent its fist into the side of my helmeted head. I staggered back trying to get my bearings as a dark shadow loomed over me. I managed to block the Wraiths next attack but only just. The Wraith then moved in for the kill. It grabbed me with its free hand around my neck and I was suddenly paralysed with fear. The strangest feeling came over me. It felt as if everything around me was drowned in a shadow that crept into my very soul. I felt cold.

The Wraith dropped me onto the ground and I looked up, my eyes becoming heavy as the battle that raged around me became nothing more than groaning muffle. I felt Alaric still in my hand but I couldn't summon enough strength to raise my weapon.

'Please God help me,' I said in a plea to Him. 'Be with me.'

An armoured foot crashed into my side and I was sent tumbling across the ground. Despair filled me with endless darkness as I closed my eyes. Then I felt something different. Warmth. It started in my right hand and then spread up my arm and into my chest. The warmth wrapped around my heart and the darkness left me. I opened my eyes and saw the Wraith getting ready to cut me open. I dodged out of the way and leapt up ready to fight. I looked at my right hand where the warmth came from and with astonishment I looked at my sword. There was something different about Alaric. I don't know if it was a trick of the light or some other craft but I thought that, for just a moment, my sword was glowing orange. With my strength returned I attacked with all my strength. Each blow pushed the Wraith back away from me as the battle raged around us. My opponent was, for the first time, on the defence. I hacked at its hand and it screeched in pain as if it had been branded by a hot iron. I attacked again and this time sent its sword flying out of its hand.

'Burn in Hell!' I yelled as I thrust Alaric into its chest.

I looked into its black empty hood and something incredible happened. Flames spread from where I stabbed it which crawled up its robes turning it into a pillar of flame. With one final death screech it was incinerated. Its broken soul was carried away by the four winds as its ashes were scattered across the battlefield.

I didn't do anything. I stood rooted to the ground as still as a statue while the battle went on. A screech brought me back to the battle. It wasn't the weapon of a screech used by the Wraiths. This was agony. The screech was filled with rage and agony. My eyes turned towards the Black Gates and I saw that the fire ball of Sauron's eye was flickering like a candle in the wind. The tower the light stood on fell, crumbling into ruins as the fire on top of it vanished in a blast of energy.

'FRODO!' I heard Merry shout.

A smile crossed my face. It was unbelievable. It was over. Sauron was dead. We had won. The blast caused an earthquake in Mordor as the ground opened up inside the lands of the Dark Lord. Tens of thousands of Orcs and Trolls fell into the ground and the Black Gates themselves collapsed. The ground fell apart but stopped just in front of our forces. The Orcs fell in droves and I smiled. We had won.

My smile vanished as another blast erupted through the air. Mount Doom, a volcano, I realized, was ripping itself apart. That was where Frodo and Sam were. We watched as the mountain tore itself apart throwing up clouds of lave and smoke. It was over, but what was the cost?

As we looked on I felt something in me. Cold. My eyes grew heavy and I dropped Alaric. I couldn't hear anything but a dull moan as I fell to my knees and then collapsed onto the bloody ground. Darkness surrounded me and all I could feel was the pure, freezing cold.

 **AN:**

 **HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Cliff-hanger!**

 **Yes I now confirm what I'm sure you all knew, and what Star-Of-Radiance guessed in chapter eleven, John's grandfather was present during the events of the Hobbit.**

 **I'd also like to make an announcement. I wanted to include a ton of stuff in this that I couldn't fit into this story. As a result I'm going to do a one-shot series entitled "Stranger-Deleted Scenes." It should be up by next week. Keep an eye open.**

 **On another note I want to bring this up. When I watched Return of the King and Aragorn said "For Frodo" I said to myself "aren't you forgetting someone?" Seriously, Sam never gets enough credit for his part! Without him Frodo would have been killed a million times by the end of the second film!**

 **Now that rant's over it's time for the review responses.**

 **Kiya: I hope that this chapter was worth the wait. I'm also glad you like James Harris, I enjoy writing him. Thanks for your review.**

 **ATP: I'm glad you liked the chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one as well.**

 **Keep reading, keep reviewing and I hope you enjoy.**

 **Have a nice day.**


	19. Chapter 18 Mystery and Victory

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Eighteen

Mystery and Victory

Darkness surrounded me and all I could feel was the pure, freezing cold. I was trapped in darkness. Time didn't pass and I could feel nothing but the numbing pain of cold. Images flashed in front of my eyes but I could only just make them out. I saw my family looking sad. I saw my friends mourning. I saw Sunniva. Sadness was spread across her face as she sat alone in her house. After the flashes of images I saw only darkness as if I was trapped in the middle of a long, dark night or in a dungeon.

Then it ended. The cold left me. I couldn't feel anything but the cold was gone. The darkness retreated from me and I could rest in comfort. I felt like I was at peace at last.

My eyes slowly creaked open and I had to shut them as the light blinded me. I turned over onto my side and then opened my eyes again. This time I could see clearly. I could see white walls of stone. I was in a bed with white sheets and I wore a white night shirt. I slowly sat up and looked around me. I was in a small room with wide arched windows letting in a lot of sunlight, a wardrobe was in a corner next a desk and a table with a few chairs scattered around the room. I quickly saw that one of the chairs was occupied.

'You're awake,' the Healer sitting in the chair said as he looked at me. 'I'll alert your uncle.'

With that the Healer ran out of the room leaving me more than a little confused. As I looked around the room my eyes came to my bedside table and a sheet of folded paper sealed with wax sitting on it. Curiously I picked it up and inspected it, seeing that written on it was my name. It was for me. I broke the wax and opened the letter to read its contents.

 _John_

 _I was very happy to get your letter. I hope that you will get this letter. I want you to know that after you left I have thought about you so much and I do miss you. There is something that I wanted to tell you in this letter. What you said to me the night before you left stayed with me. I prayed to your God the next night. I don't know if I did it right or wrong. If you write back to me about anything I need to do I would be grateful._

 _I miss you very much John and I want to see you again soon. Please write back if you can._

 _Sunniva_

I re read the letter a few times as I let its contents sink in. At first I was surprised by her revelation that she prayed to God. But then I paid more attention to the other parts of the letter.

She said she was thinking about me.

 _She is your friend. What were you expecting?_ A voice in my head said to me.

'Good God,' I said to myself. 'Why can't life be simple?'

The door of my room opened and my uncle walked in. When he saw me a smile spread across his face and walked up to me quickly. He was still using a walking stick but he wasn't leaning on it so heavily. He sat down in the chair next to my bed.

'Thank God you're alright John,' he happily declared. 'You gave me a heart attack when you arrived.'

'Am I in Minas Tirith?' I asked him.

'The Houses of Healing,' he clarified. 'Gandalf brought you in yesterday. He flew you here on a giant eagle of all things with a pair of Hobbits.'

'What happened to me? All I can remember is darkness.'

'Black Breath,' he answered me. 'According to Gandalf it is an aura of dark magic which the Wraiths can summon to put someone into a nightmare filled coma. It's the same plague which attacked Lady Eowyn. You're lucky to be alive right now if it wasn't for Aragorn healing you with some sort of herb he had brought with him.'

'Thank God for King Aragorn,' I said as the memories of my battle with the Wraith came back to me. 'We won the battle,' I distantly commented.'

'The war,' my uncle corrected me. 'We won the war.'

'So it's peace at last.'

'Yes it is,' he said and then he saw the letter in my hands. 'What's that?'

'Just a letter from a friend,' I answered.

'The girl you kissed in a drunken stupor?'

'Did everyone in the Golden Hall see that?'

'At least half. I won't pry on your private life John but just be respectable. I wish I could talk longer but I was in a meeting with a few of the city officials when you woke up. I'll see you as soon as I can. Feel free to walk around the Houses. The Gardens here are extraordinary.'

'I'll have a look at them,' I said as my uncle stood up from his chair. 'Do you know where my sword is?'

'In the wardrobe,' he answered. 'Your armour and your clothes are in there as well.'

'Thank you uncle.'

When he left I pushed myself out of bed and nearly fell over but I managed to walk to the wardrobe. Inside it I found my armour in a sack, Alaric leaning against the corner of the wardrobe and my clothes, along with some which weren't mine. I picked up Alaric, still in its scabbard, and I gripped the handle. Thinking back to the battle I pulled the sword from the scabbard and looked at the blade. It was scratched and contact marls covered the edges. I remembered the glow it made when I battled the Wraith and at that moment it was an more than a weapon but now it looked like a normal sword, like it always had been.

'Did I imagine it?' I asked myself.

That question didn't leave me for days afterwards. A week after the day of battle I was sitting in the Tower of Ecthelion next to my uncle after a meeting discussing the progress of removing rubble from the city. It would take years to completely repair the city. The city officials had just left while I and my uncle took a while to gather all of my uncle's notes.

'It's hard work running this city,' my uncle commented.

'But rewarding I think. When will Captain Faramir be fully recovered?'

'His wound was infected but he will be able to leave by tomorrow. Did you speak with him in the Houses of Healing?'

'For a little but not much. He praised your leadership though.'

'He did?'

'He did. The words he used included courageous and heroic.'

'He overstates my importance John. The men of Gondor are by far one of the finest fighting forces I have ever seen. All I did was organize them.'

'And created the hand-cannon.'

'I did consider Greek Fire but we didn't have enough pitch.'

'Where did you learn how to make all of this?'

'My castle had a library which you and Rickard avoided at all cost.'

We both smiled a little and chuckled.

'Uncle, might I ask why you agreed to govern this city while Aragorn was away?'

'It was right,' he answered.

'There has to be more than that. You've already given up so much for this country. Your risked your life, almost died, lost your arm. Why did you agree?'

My uncle silently looked at the table in front of him, studying the woodwork for a moment and then looked at me.

'Guilt.'

'Guilt?'

'In the siege Gondor lost one thousand nine hundred men. Seven hundred of them were conscripts. I ordered those men to fight and when I took command of this city every one of those men became my responsibility. You see? By doing all I can to help this city I am doing all I can to make sure those men didn't die for nothing.'

'But uncle, no one will ever blame you for those lives lost. I overheard a few soldiers earlier calling you a hero. One wants to see a statue of you built.'

'I never wanted to be a hero John. No one should. Just try to be a good man and history will decide what you are.'

'If that's what you think then fine. Just remember that those soldiers out there look to you as a hero.'

The door was then pushed open by one of the Citadel Guards.

'My Lord,' the Guard said and bowed to my uncle.

'What is it?' he asked him.

'The army is approaching the city. The Host of the West is returning.'

'How long until they get here?'

'Three hours sir.'

My uncle looked at me and then at the Guard.

'Alert the city that the army is returning to us. Inform the city residents that the Triumph is about to begin. John, you know your place.'

'I understand,' I answered and then stood up.

Over two hours later I rode out of the city on a horse I had borrowed from the stables. The Gates of the city, or at least what was left of them, had been removed and added to a small hill of rubble outside of the city walls. Men had been working hard to remove the rubble from the city and salvage anything that could be saved. Not far away, crossing Pelannor Fields, was the army. The banners of Rohan and Gondor standing tall and proud over the army. It didn't take long for my eyes to find the Banner of the Order of English Knights. The banner wasn't too far from the front of the army which was marching in column. I commanded my horse to hurry towards the army. I reached them and the army came to a stop.

'Majesties,' I said with a bow to Eomer and Aragorn.

'John,' Aragorn said and smiled, 'I'm glad to see you have recovered. How are you feeling?'

'Very well thank you. My uncle asked me to greet you on his behalf.'

'Why? Is there something wrong?'

'Not at all your Majesty,' I answered him. 'He's just finishing off some work.'

'I thought Faramir would have recovered by now.'

'The wound was infected but he's well on the way to recovery.'

'What about Frodo and Sam?' asked Pippin, who I didn't realize was riding with Aragorn.

'They'll both be fine,' I told him. 'Sam's awake but Frodo is still asleep but on the way to recovery.'

Relief spread across Pippin and Merry's faces and I smiled at their relief.

'JOHN!'

Two riders broke rank from the army and galloped towards me. My cousins. Rickard reached me first and hugged me, almost falling off his horse in the process. Markus kept more dignified and instead decided to pat me on my back but a smile was plastered onto his face.

'I'm sorry I couldn't help in the fight against the Wraith,' Rickard quickly told me. 'I was going to but those vile beasts attacked me and I was pulled away and...'

'Rickard I'm fine,' I told him. 'The point is we won.'

'I told him you'd say that,' Markus told me.

'Let's get to the city,' Aragorn said to us.

'Of course your Majesty.

I joined my cousins in the column with the rest of the knights. Some of them said hello to me and were glad I was still alive. Seven knights had been killed in the battle but the rest were glad to be alive. As we approached the space once occupied by the Gates Markus noticed a tiny smile on my face.

'What has uncle planned?' he whispered to me.

'Whatever do you mean?' I asked him, trying to stifle a laugh.

'I'll try to enjoy the surprise, whatever it may be.'

We rode into the courtyard where fifty Gondorian soldiers waited for us. Twenty five stood on each side and each one stood to attention when Aragorn rode past them. Aragorn nodded as a return gesture and then we turned onto the main road. There was waiting the real surprise. The entire population of the city was lined up on the sides of the road cheering the army. Waiting just to the side of the road on his horse was my uncle. He was riding well in spite of his missing arm. With a small smile on his face he commanded his horse to trot towards Aragorn.

'Your Majesty,' he said and bowed his head. 'I have taken the liberty of organising a victory parade for your return. I hope you do not mind.'

'Not at all James,' Aragorn replied and laughed a little at the surprise.

The army moved through the city greeted by falling clouds of confetti and rejoicing cheers. The people threw flowers onto the road in front of the army and many of the soldiers waved at the people. I had never seen so many rejoice at one time. I also saw something else. When Aragorn passed them they bowed to him. They embraced him as their king.

'Why do I feel like it's the good life from now on?' Rickard asked us.

'Because of the cheering and general good mood perhaps?' Markus suggested.

'Nah,' Jason said as he entered our conversation. 'It's all the ale we'll be downing tonight!'

'I'll drink twice as much as you,' Rickard declared and that reminded me of something.

'Who won our kill contest?' I asked them.

'About that,' Rickard began as he, Markus, Jason, Gimli and Legolas shared looks, 'we agreed on the way back that, since you killed that Wraith, you win this round.'

'Thanks,' I said to them and they laughed. 'Although I'm not sure it was me.'

'What do you mean?' asked Jason.

'I'll explain later,' I told them. 'The point is we won the war. Rickard's right. It's the good life from now on.'

'Here here,' Markus agreed.

'All we need is a couple of fine ladies each and it's all well,' Jason declared and we laughed at what he said while I saw Father Harold sigh into his hand out of the corner of my eye.

...

Later that night I sat with my cousins and my uncle in one of the surviving taverns in Minas Tirith. We were sat around a wooden table waiting for the waitress to bring us our drinks.

'Where do we go next?' I asked my uncle.

'Erebor,' he answered. 'Eventually anyway.'

'What do we do in the meantime?' asked Markus.

'We wait in Minas Tirith,' my uncle told us. 'We will leave for Erebor after Aragorn's coronation in May. Until then we work on establishing our order of knights. We'll start at the council meeting tomorrow morning.'

The waitress then arrived and placed four mugs of beer on the tables in front of us. When she walked away my mind couldn't help but think of what happened in the battle against the Wraith. I needed to speak with an expert.

...

'Gandalf,' I said to the old wizard as I walked towards him.

He was sitting in one of the gardens in the Houses of Healing smoking a pipe when I found him. It was early in the morning after I had a drink with my family.

'Can I help you John?' he asked me.

'Yes. Well, I need advice more than anything.'

I sat down next to him and pulled Alaric from the sheath.

'During my battle against the Wraith I thought I was going to die. I felt cold and fearful but then I felt warmth. It gave me the strength to fight and I realized it was coming from my sword. When I looked at it I was sure that it was glowing orange for a moment. You're a wizard and...'

'You were hoping that I could help find out what happened with your sword,' he finished.

'Yes.'

'Let me have a look at it.'

I passed him my sword and the old man studied the blade. He ran his finger along the edge of the blade and muttered something under his breath in a language I didn't know. After he scrutinized every inch of Alaric he handed it back to me.

'As far as I can tell it's a very well made sword but apart from that I can see nothing special about it.'

'Oh,' I said, feeling a little downtrodden.

'That said, when you stabbed the Nazgul it should not have been set alight,' Gandalf explained. 'Perhaps something did help you but it has not stayed in your blade.'

'By "something" what do you mean?'

Instead of answering me at once he just smiled and stood up.

'I'll let you come up with an answer for that,' he told me. 'I need to check on Frodo.'

As he walked away I thought about what he said to me. If he meant what I thought he meant that would be remarkable. To this day I do not know what caused it but I know that someday I will know the truth for certain.

 **AN: I hope you enjoyed this one my loyal readers and anyone who is passing by.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Kiya: I hope that answered what the Morgoth happened. Also, I'm glad you liked the last chapter and I hope you enjoyed this one.**

 **ATP: I couldn't resist it alright. That review was practically gift wrapped for Jason.**

 **Please review and I'll see you next week.**

 **Have a nice day.**


	20. Chapter 19 Elessar

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Nineteen

Elessar

We fell into a routine as the month of April went on. Most of the soldiers from Rohan had returned home apart from the Royal Guard who stayed in Minas Tirith with Eomer and Eowyn. Eomer also arranged riders to take letters from Minas Tirith to Edoras and back so they could contact their closest as often as possible. In this way I was able to write to Sunniva often.

The other knights in Minas Tirith, what remained of us, settled in easily. The Council were able to get the kings permission to set up our order properly in Gondor and Father Harold had already started working with an architect for a church in Minas Tirith.

My uncle was also given a reward for his service to Gondor. He was given as a gift just over a thousand acres of land by the river Erui, fifty miles from Minas Tirith. He humbly accepted the gift but told the king that he couldn't go there immediately. As soon as the coronation of our new king was complete he intended to ride to Erebor.

The days leading up to the coronation were busy to say the least. Representatives from across Middle Earth came to Minas Tirith. One group to arrive which caused a stir came from Lothlorien. The elves were lead by Lady Galadriel who predicted our arrival. When we received word that the Erebor representatives had arrived my uncle, cousins, myself and Gimli hurried to the courtyard to greet them. The group of two dozen dwarves rode on ponies as they came towards the city. My family and I stood away from the great arch where the gates once stood while Gimli happily stood forward to greet the new arrivals. The dwarves were lead by a formidable looking older Dwarf gray hair that held traces of red in it.

'Father!' Gimli belted when he saw him.

Gloin, I realised, climbed off of his horse and embraced his son happily. After a few moments they let go of each other and, loudly laughing, Gimli lead his father towards us.

'There are some men I want to introduce you to,' Gimli told Gloin.

'Who are they then?' Gloin asked him.

'You'll see.'

They stopped in front of us and Gloin looked at us, and in particular my uncle, with something that looked like familiarity.

'Greetings,' my uncle said to the old Dwarf. 'I am James Harris, son of Bartholomew Harris.'

Despite of his massive beard which hid most of his mouth, I saw Gloin's jaw drop so far it almost hit the ground. My uncle continued the introductions.

'These two are my sons, Markus and Rickard. He is my nephew; John son of Daniel.'

'I don't believe it,' said Gloin, his voice filled with surprise. 'You're the image of him James. I thought you were Bartholomew for a moment.'

'Thank you,' my uncle responded calmly but a smile came onto his face.

'Where is your brother?' Gloin asked next.

At that my uncle's smile vanished. His posture dropped a little and he mournfully answered the question.

'Dead,' he answered. 'He fell in battle years ago.'

Gloin cursed in Dwarvish and shook his head.

'I'm so sorry. Bartholomew never stopped trying to a find a way back to England. He searched through every ancient text in Middle Earth to find a way back to you.'

'And I found a way to him,' my uncle told the Dwarf. 'Will you allow us to travel to Erebor with you after the coronation?'

'Of course,' Gloin agreed. 'Bartholomew has been a good friend to me and my kin. It would be my honour to take you to Erebor.'

'Then you have my thanks. Gimli volunteered to show you to your rooms. I will see you at the coronation.'

'I certainly will young James.'

My uncle laughed. It was the first time he'd been called young in a long time.

...

The coronation of King Aragorn II Elessar took place on May the First of that year. The sun shone down and not a cloud could be seen in the skies above Minas Tirith. It was as if the sun itself wanted to show us the true beauty of a new age. Crammed into the Citadel stood hundreds of guests from the armies of Gondor and Rohan as well as the Gondorian nobility and the guests from across Middle Earth. The English Knights stood there as well my family and the Council at the front. We were all dressed in our full armour, Jason had been convinced to give his armour a good shine, apart from Father Harold who wore his best vestments. The White Tree had come into full bloom and showered all those gathered with blossom.

Standing in their full armour on the steps to the Tower of Ecthelion was Aragorn and Faramir. Standing with them was Gandalf dressed in his white robes and Gimli who was holding a black cushion upon which sat the crown. It was magnificent, greater than any crown I had ever seen. It shone brightly and was adorned with precious stones. At the front and back were wings made of silver only making the crown even grander.

The ceremony began with Faramir, Steward of Gondor, making a speech to the people.

'People of Gondor, hear now the Steward of this realm! One has come to claim the kingship again at last. Here is Aragorn son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dunedain of Arnor, Captain of the Army of the West, wielder of Narsil reforged, whose hands bering healing, descendant of the line of Isildur. Shall he be our king with the name Elessar and dwell here among us?'

"Aye!" the entire crowd declared with one voice.

When they declared that Faramir walked off the steps to join the crowd, and I noticed he walked towards Lady Eowyn. Back on the steps to the Tower Gandalf gently lifted the crown from where it sat as Aragorn kneeled in front of the wizard. He held the crown high up above his head before slowly lowering it onto Aragorns head. When the crown rested on its rightful owners head the wizard declared to the crowd,

'Now come the days of the King. May they be blessed.'

'Amen,' I heard Father Harold whisper.

Aragorn then stood up and turned to face the crowds of people. His long black cloak fell around him but he kept his hand on the kilt of his sword. He looked every part a great king. The crowd cheered him and I did so as well. I clapped my hands and yelled my approval. When the cheers died down Aragorn spoke to his people as their king for the first time.

'This day does not belong to one man but to all. Let us together rebuild this world that we may share in the days of peace.'

This was met by another round cheers and clapping hands. They soon fell silent though as Aragorn started to sing in Elvish.

' _Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta!'_

His voice carried over us as he walked down the steps towards the crowd. As he passed us we bowed to him and I smiled. I knew that only a good future awaited Gondor. A group of elves, including Legolas, bowed to him as he passed. He stepped up to Legolas and put a hand on his shoulder. He said something quietly to him and, even though I was close by, I couldn't make it out. Legolas then smiled as he tilted his head towards the elves behind him and the king looked that way. I did as well, curious to see what he was looking at. In fact, it turned out to be who, not what.

Amongst the group of elves a female Elf. She had raven hair and wore a circlet of silver on her head. They way Aragorn looked at her spoke of just one thing. Love. Slowly the two walked towards each other, not focusing on anything else. He gently touched her chin and looked into her eyes. Then they kissed. They embraced each other and he spun her around. The crowds clapped again but I noticed a few young Gondorian noblewomen looking a little saddened.

'I think they might know each other,' Rickard said and I chuckled at that.

'It must be good to be a king,' Jason added his own joke.

They walked through the crowds a little further, almost lost in happiness until they were out of sight of us. I could just see the top of Aragorn's crown over the heads of the people and I saw that they stopped.

'My friends,' I heard him say to someone. 'You bow to no one.'

He then bowed as did the people behind him. That was when I saw he was bowing to the four Hobbits. My uncle was the first of the English to bow and the rest of us soon followed him. Thousands of people bowing to Hobbits. I can only imagine doing as much in the war as they have done.

...

Later that day I walked alone into my uncles chambers. Rickard, Markus and I had been sharing with him for the time being. I walked to my small room and pulled a small pile of letters out of a wardrobe. I looked at the most recent, it arrived the previous day, and read through it again.

 _John_

 _Thanks for your last letter. I hope your uncle is feeling better now. Cenric is driving me mad right now. He "forgot" to hand back in his sword after Helms Deep and smashed the table leg._

 _Thank you for telling me the Lord Prayer in your letters. I feel comfortable praying now but I haven't told anyone else yet. You promised to not tell anyone as well for now. You told me that you will go to Erebor after the coronation to meet your grandfather. I suppose that while you're there you won't be able to write. That will be fine. The next time you can write will you? I want to hear from you again John_

 _Lots of love_

 _Sunniva_

I read through it a few times and then sat down at the small table to write a reply.

 _Sunnvia_

 _I'm sorry about your table and I hope it is repaired quickly. My uncle is feeling fine now and I think that he'll stay that way._

 _The coronation was magnificent. I wish you could have been there to see it. I know that Aragorn will be a good king and he will lead Gondor well in the years to come. Sadly this is the last letter I will be sending you for a while. I ride for Erebor soon and I will soon meet my grandfather. As soon as I can I will write again._

 _I promise I won't tell anyone that you have started praying to my God for now. If you feel that you have need of advice in Christianity while I cannot write I think you should write to Father Harold._

 _I'll write to you again as soon as I can but that may not be for months. For now Sunniva, goodbye._

 _John_

I read through the letter and then sealed it with wax. I decided to send it to the couriers and then go and have some drinks with my cousins. There was a lot to celebrate after all.

 **AN: I know this one was shorter than some of my others but I enjoyed writing it and you're lucky to have it. I have been binge writing my superhero AU of Phantom of the Opera (my imagination is weird) and then this morning I woke up and said, "Oh God I've not written the next chapter for Stranger!" Here it is though and I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Also, one other cool fact that I just want to state here and has nothing to do with Lord of the Rings. Daisy Ridley, who plays Rey in Star Wars the Force Awakens, is the great niece of Arnold Ridley, one of my favourite actors. I think that's cool.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Kiya: For the record the thing with John being helped by God is inspired by something that happened to King Clovis of the Franks. It's a long story.  
They'll get to Erebor soon.**

 **ATP: I'm glad you liked the story so far.**

 **As ever, enjoy and review please.**

 **Have a nice day.**


	21. Chapter 20 Erebor

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN: I've decided to re write this chapter as I myself was not satisfied with the last one and I think that this will be a slight improvement.**

 **Also, my heart goes out to those murdered in the cowardly terrorist attacks which occurred in Paris. My next statement is from my heart, and I know the hearts of every person across the world who believes in the values of freedom, long live democracy and no act of terrorism will ever destroy it! Long live France! The people of Britain are with you.**

Chapter Twenty

Erebor

It was a long way from Minas Tirith to Erebor. To be exact, close to nine hundred miles. It would take around a month of hard riding to reach Erebor but it would be worth the long journey. While we were away Robert had agreed to act as leader of the Council until my uncle returned. We left Minas Tirith a week after the coronation with the Dwarves to begin our long journey north.

I won't bother describing each day of the journey in depth. Instead I will briefly describe to you the route we took. We crossed the River Anduin at Osgiliath and then rode North West, staying close to the Anduin. We kept riding that way for a long time until we'd passed the Falls of Rauros. After that we turned North East, hugging the edge of a mountainous region called Emyn Muil. After that it was a long trek across the Brown Lands. It was an empty desolate land with next to no trees or plant life. It was made that way thousands of years ago by Sauron before he was defeated by the Last Alliance of Men and Elves. We travelled across that land until we reached the southernmost border of Mirkwood. After that we journeyed along the edge of the forest going north again and then we went up the river Celdiun. After a long journey we reached the Long Lake. The name fit it perfectly. The lake was about twenty miles long and five miles wide. At the north tip of the lake was Esgaroth, a city built on the lake itself and beyond that, standing tall into the sky, was Erebor. It was the tallest mountain I had ever seen and stood alone, dwarfing everything around it.

When I and my family saw it our jaws dropped. It was amazing.

'No wonder Smaug wanted it,' Rickard remarked. On our way to Erebor, Gloin had told us of the Quest for Erebor.

'No wonder my father chose to stay there,' my uncle said distantly.

'He would have gone back to England if he could,' Gloin told my uncle. 'Let's keep moving. If we ride through the night we'll be in Erebor by dawn.'

'Is it wise to ride at night?' Markus asked the old Dwarf. 'The terrain doesn't look easy.'

'It will be fine,' Gloin assured us. 'We have good roads leading up to the mountain.'

'Then let's get on with it,' said my uncle.

With that we started riding again. As you have guessed, it was late in the day, the sun was hanging low in the sky and I was tired after a month of riding. Yet we still rode on. We rode past the Lake and up into the hills. Through the night we went up the mountain road, passing a few men and dwarves as they went about their business. They nodded to Gloin when they saw him but didn't pay much attention to the rest of us. The cold night air bit at us so I kept my cloak wrapped tight around me with its hood up. Gloin didn't lie about the roads, they were well built and maintained but we still wanted to be careful, there were occasional steep drops and the only light we had was from the torches a few of us carried. These factors made our progress through the night slower than we would have liked it. By the time the first hint of sunlight appeared over the horizon we were on a rocky outcrop which overlooked Dale, a city of men which sat just a stone's throw from Erebor.

The Easterlings had invaded the North and sacked the city of Dale. Sadly, during the battle Dain II Ironfoot, King of Erebor and Brand, the King of Dale, were both killed. Now their sons ruled in their fathers places. Dale was already being rebuilt with the aid of the dwarves. Our eyes rested on Dale for a while until our gaze moved towards the Gates of Erebor. At the very foot of the mountain, between Erebor and Dale, was a wide plain covered in grass and a few trees. In the wall of the mountain I saw a set of gates made from the very stone of the mountain itself. Above the gates were battlements with Dwarf soldiers standing guard. On each side of the Gates stood a twenty feet tall stone statue of a Dwarf carrying an axe. The Gates of Erebor and the statues next to it were pockmarked from a long and heavy attack of catapults and ballista's.

'Erebor,' Gloin proclaimed. 'Welcome home my son,' he said to Gimli.

'Those damned Easterlings,' Gimli then growled something in Dwarvish.

'Come on,' said Gloin. 'I can't wait to see Bartholomew's face when he learns you're here.'

My uncle didn't say a word back. Instead he just let the smallest of smiles form on his face. He quickly moved his remaining hand up to his eyes to wipe away a tiny tear before anyone could see it properly. We moved down the road towards Erebor. We rode straight across the grassy plain towards the Gates where we were ordered to stop by the dwarf warriors on the battlements. After Gloin shared a few words in Dwarvish with the soldiers they let us enter and I was amazed. Inside was a vast city carved out of the mountain itself. Tall pillars held up the vast cavernous roof and stone bridges crossed the caverns linking the whole city together. Our horses were taken to the stables while we walked with a few guards deeper into the city.

'Where are we going?' I asked Gloin.

'To the throne room,' he answered. 'I told who you are to the guards and we are now going to see Thorin, the King of Erebor.'

'When can I see my father?' my uncle asked quickly.

'Soon,' Gloin assured him. 'I sent messengers to Bartholomew and Thorin. He'll meet us there.'

'Excellent,' my uncle said with what he tried to make sure was a calm face but I could tell he was a mix of excitement and worry.

The throne room wasn't really a room but a cavernous hall. The throne was on the very edge of a walkway in the heart of a cavern. Sitting on the throne was a Dwarf with a large ginger beard and hair which had a tiny amount of grey in it. On his head was a finely made crown. Sitting around him were a few Dwarf nobles and a handful of Dwarf soldiers stood on guard.

'Majesty,' Gloin said with a small bow which all of us copied, 'we have returned.'

'And not alone,' said Thorin as he looked at us with a small smile. 'Is it true that before me stands the son and grandsons of Bartholomew Harris?'

'Yes,' my uncle answered as he walked forwards. 'I am James Harris. These two are my sons, Markus, my eldest, and Rickard my youngest. He is my nephew, John Harris.'

King Thorin looked at each of us and then he asked another question.

'What of John's father. Where is Daniel Harris?'

'He fell in battle many years ago,' Gloin answered for him.

'Damn,' said Thorin. 'I'm sorry for your loss James Harris. And you as well John. Still, I am glad that Bartholomew can be reunited with at least one of his sons and now he can see at last his family.'

'James?'

The voice was shaky and wearied with age. At the same time it was filled with so much joy and hope. It was almost disbelief. Yet it sounded so much like my uncles. Slowly my uncle turned around, keeping his wounded arm beneath his cloak, and faced the man standing haf way across the bridge. He was so old and weathered. He rested heavily on an ornately carved gilded walking stick. His face was covered in wrinkles but most of it was hidden behind a beard and main of wispy white hair. Yet, even through all of it I saw his face was the same as my uncles apart from the different eye colour.

'Can it be?' Bartholomew asked himself as he stepped forward slowly. 'Can it truly be?'

My uncle didn't say a word. He started walking forwards slowly and then at a slow run.

'Father!' he sobbed as he wrapped his arm around his father.

The older man sobbed as well, dropping his walking stick and wrapped his arms around his son for the first time in so long. Everyone nearby was smiling at the scene before them. They stood there for who knows how long until they stepped back from each other. My uncle picked up his father's walking stick and passed it to him. He took it and smiled as he looked at his son again. His eyes then turned to my cousins and I. It looked like he couldn't stop his smiling.

'Sire,' he said to King Thorin, 'may I leave and take my family to my rooms?'

'Of course,' Thorin happily approved.

The five of us left the throne room and walked through the labyrinth of corridors that was Erebor. Eventually we found our way to my grandfather's rooms. He had a large living room which looked more like a library with hundreds of books stacked on top of each other against the walls. His shelves were overflowing with books and stacks of scrolls. Scattered around the room were couches and chairs with a table and in the wall was a roaring fire. Hanging over the fire was a sword and shield while in the corner stood a suit of armour.

My grandfather sat down on one of the chairs with a groan he breathed heavily in his chair.

'Sit down,' he told us. 'I've sent for a servant to bring us some food. I'm sorry about the mess in here. You should see my study.'

When we all sat down, each of us in a different chair, my grandfather reached to the table next to his chair and picked up a pipe and started smoking.

'Daniel,' my grandfather said to me. 'You are his image. I overheard that he fell in battle. Is it true?'

'Yes,' my uncle answered for me as he took off his cloak.

'Your arm!' my grandfather shouted. 'What happened to it?'

'A Troll. I fought a Troll and it took my arm.'

'I never liked Trolls. Worse than my in laws. What happened to her?'

'Who?'

'Myrtle. What happened to your mother? Did she marry again?'

'No,' my uncle answered. 'She didn't marry again. She died thirty years ago.'

'She was a good woman,' my grandfather said with a distant look in his eyes. 'Did she make sure the arrangements I made were done right?'

'Yes she did,' my uncle assured him. 'The marriages you arranged for us went ahead.'

'Good. I see they were successful,' the old man said as he gestured at my cousins and me before looking at his son again. 'How did you come here? I spent years trying to find a way home and I never could find a way.'

'We came through the same way you did.'

'You didn't have to fight a dragon did you?' he asked with some alarm.

'No. Just Orc's and Trolls,' Rickard answered with a laugh.

My grandfather chuckled and then started coughing.

'Father?' my uncle asked in alarm as he stood up.

'Sit down James. It's just my age boy. I'm surprised I'm still alive now after all these years. It's something in the water I think.'

He started his hacking cough again and picked up a goblet from his table and drank deeply from it.

'Medicine,' he explained. 'It's an interesting tale of my life since I came here. I practically ransacked what was left of Erebor's Hall of Records looking for anything that could tell me about this world.'

From there he told us of what happened since he arrived in Middle Earth. He talked for hours as if it was a tale he knew off by heart. The four of us listened intently as he talked, a Dwarf woman, who had a beard, walked in with some food for us, and then left. When he reached the point of when they were captured in Mirkwood by Legolas we were all surprised. Not long after that he told us what he said to King Thranduil and Rickard started barking with laughter.

'I wish I could have seen his face,' I laughed.

'He resembled a fish actually,' my grandfather told me and started coughing again. 'That one moment was as funny as last Christmas.'

'You celebrate Christmas here?' I asked him.

'It's just a party with me and my friends,' he explained and then continued his story. 'It's just them humouring me really. Now, back to the story. After that I was being escorted back to the dungeons when the oddest thing happened.'

A week after we arrived in Erebor a feast was held in one of the many halls. It was to celebrate Gloin and Gimlis return, as well as the end of the war and the destruction of the Ring. The food was arranged on a long table that went most of the length of the hall. There were mountains of freshly baked bread, piles of cooked chickens, pheasants and sausages were stacked on silver plates next to steaming chunks of pork, barrels of ale were standing ready against the walls, bowls of vegetables, including a few I didn't recognize, were sitting for us. All along the table were Nobles from Dale, Esgaroth and Erebor, waiting for King Thorin to enter and for the feast to begin. I was sitting to the left of my cousins. To their right sat my uncle and then my grandfather. What surprised me most was how close to the centre of the table we were sitting. We were nowhere near the edge but we were close to some of the most important people in Erebor and Dale. My grandfather and uncle were talking to each other, my uncle explaining what happened after he left. As you can imagine, he was happy to learn we won at Agincourt but was disappointed that England fell into civil war. The chatter in the room ended suddenly as the main doors opened and the King walked in. Every one stood up, apart from one Dwarf who was, well, too large to stand up. Bombur he was called. When the king reached his seat he made his speech.

'Tonight we remember all those who died defending Erebor and Dale. We were in the right to fight for our people and homes. I hope war will not fall on us again for a long time but when anyone threatens our freedom we will fight again to the very end! Now eat and enjoy yourselves. Durin knows we deserve it!'

This speech received cheers from around the room as the feast began. Music played and the hum of talk filled the room, mixing with the delicious smell of food. I helped myself to some of the meat, including chicken, pheasant and sausages, taken from the plates closest to me, with some bread and a mug of beer.

'Your feasts impress me Gimli,' I told the Dwarf, a little along the table.

'I knew they would,' he said as he stifled a chuckle.

'They impress me,' Rickard declared before he gulped down his beer.

I took a large bite out of my piece of pheasant and almost spat it out. That said, the disgust was evident on my face. The pheasant was so salty.

Gimli and Gloin started bawling out laughter as I realised what they'd done and I started laughing. Rickard ate some of his own pheasant and his face scrunched up. He turned his head to the two laughing Dwarfs and then at me.

'You told him about the salty pheasant didn't you?'

I nodded my head in response.

'Oh John.'

The rest of the night went by brilliantly. Fortunately they'd only put the salt on the pheasant close to us so the rest were fine. I enjoyed myself and remembered to not drink too much after what happened the last time I was drunk at a party.

I talked to some of the local nobles, confirming I was Bartholomew's grandson, and telling them about what had happened in Rohan and Gondor, although I left out the details about my sword. Markus was in a discussion with some of the Dwarf librarians while Rickard tried to sample every type of ale in the Hall.

My grandfather talked with many of the nobles warmly who introduced my uncle to, including the King of Dale, friends of his I guessed. I heard him discussing his will with one of them. He wasn't well at all. Every few minutes he started coughing and then drank his medicine. Later we learned from Gloin that my grandfather's position in Erebor, as Chief of the Royal Armoury, had taken a lot out of him. Added to that was the strain from the siege and his health had taken a turn for the worse.

Three months after we arrived in Erebor, late one night, I was woken up by a servant. I was staying in a small guest room near my grandfather's rooms. I was told I had to go to my uncles rooms. I didn't know what the problem was but I hurried anyway. When I got there I found my uncle and cousins were already there with a small group of older Dwarves. I recognised some of them, Gloin, Gimli, Bofur and a few others. They were all crowded around my uncles bed where the old man himself was laying down. He looked pale and weak. A servant helped him drink his medicine.

'Father,' my uncle said as he gripped onto his father's hand. 'Stay awake. Please.'

'James,' he whispered. 'James. I'm tired. So tired. I had a strange dream. There was a dragon in it. Where's your brother?'

'Asleep,' my uncle told him after a few seconds of silence. 'He was very tired.'

'Me and him both James. Me and him both. I think I need a long sleep.'

'No father,' my uncle told him. 'I've only just found you again.'

'Really? Where was I? '

He chucked a little but they quickly turned into coughs again. No one said a word for the next hour as my grandfather fell asleep. When his eyes closed and his chest stopped rising and falling my uncle let go of his father's hand. He slowly pushed his face into the sheets and cried, sobs coming uncontrolled from him. I let silent tears fall down my face while Rickard hugged his father. Markus stepped away from the bed and looked away as a few tears leaked from his eyes. My uncle's Dwarf friends sadly shook their heads as they left to give us some privacy.

'Father,' my uncle sobbed. 'Please no.'

 **AN: I hope you liked this version better than the last version. As ever, have a nice day and I'll see you next week.**


	22. Chapter 21 Final Depatures

The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN: We come to journeys end. Here is the last chapter of this story. Please read the AN at the end as I have announcements their regarding this stories future and thank you messages to my reviewers.**

Chapter Twenty One

Final Departure

HERE RESTS BARTHOLOMEW HARRIS  
KNIGHT OF ENGLAND AND WARRIOR OF EREBOR  
BELOVED FATHER AND GRANDFATHER  
MEMBER OF THE COMPANY OF THORIN OAKENSHIELD WHO AIDED IN THE LIBERATION OF THE KINGDOM OF EREBOR FROM THE DRAGON SMAUG THE TERRIBLE  
MASTER OF THE ROYAL ARMOURY OF EREBOR  
BORN JUNE 21ST 1385AD  
DIED SEPTEMBER 30TH TA 3019  
NINETY FIVE YEARS OLD

That is the inscription over my grandfather's grave. Simple and honest. The absolute truth. The grave stone itself is a marble block with the above inscription carved into it. Standing on the block is a life size statue of my grandfather. He is wearing his armour, apart from his helmet, and a cloak is hanging from his shoulders. A sword is clutched in his hands, the blade of the sword is mithril, and the statue holds it above the shoulder, as if ready to strike down an enemy. In his face was a look of determination and intelligence.

That was what I saw when I looked at the newly filled in grave. The funeral, a week after my grandfathers death, had been attended by hundreds, including the King of Dale and many of his nobles, but most of those in attendance were people of Erebor, watching one of their heroes being taken to his final resting place. He was buried in his armour, apart from his helmet, clutching his sword, and laid out in a gilded coffin with a glass lid. I was still dressed in my armour and black cloak I wore for the funeral. I and my cousins, dressed like me, stood back from the grave where my uncle was kneeling. He looked into the face of his father's statue and spoke quietly to him.

'It's sad,' Rickard quietly said to me as the wind blew our cloaks back behind us.

'You're right brother,' said Markus. 'So many years apart and they only had three months.'

'How can God be so cruel?' Rickard distantly asked himself.

'It's not God,' I said to him. 'It's life. Perhaps He has a plan for some of us but in the end life catches all of us.'

'You make time sound like an enemy,' Rickard told us.

'It's a force of nature,' I told him.

'I was speaking with Gloin earlier,' Markus told us. 'He thinks the only reason Grandfather lasted as long as he did was to see someone he knew again.'

'Perhaps,' I agreed as a few small specks of rain started pattering down on us.

'It looks like a thunder storm is coming,' Markus commented as he looked at the sky.

'We better get indoors,' I said to them. 'Will you ask him to come inside?'

My cousins looked at each other and silently agreed that Markus should get him. While my older cousin walked towards his father the cousin who was the same age as me turned towards me.

'John, can I ask you something?'

'Yes,' I answered but I kept looking at my uncle as Markus touched him on the shoulder.

'Why do you often step back at family events? Today you stood a little behind my father and brother. I was just wondering.'

'You answered your own question,' I told him as the rain started to get a little heavier. 'Like you said, he's your father and your brother. I'm your cousin and his nephew.'

'You feel separate?' he asked, a little surprised at what I said.

'Only a small amount. I know it sounds stupid but I don't remember much of my father. I remember him training me with weapons and making sure I could read and write. But then he left for war with your father and the other knights. Only one of our fathers came back.'

'And you think that since you have no father you shouldn't stand with us perfectly?'

'Sometimes.'

'John, the only one who should think that is a bastard son. You're not. I never thought of you as a cousin. I thought of you as a brother.'

I smiled at what he said, ignoring the now heavy rain.

'Thank you Rickard,' I said to him as Markus lead his father towards us.

'Let's go in,' my uncle said solemnly.

We all walked back into Erebor, now soaked to the skin, and went back to our rooms to change. I'd been given an apartment with a living room and a bedroom which doubled as a washroom. I quickly changed into a tunic, trousers and a dry pair of boots and then walked to my uncles apartments, which used to belong to his father and, under the laws of Erebor, now belonged to my uncle. My family and I had a simple meal that night.

'King Thorin said we can stay as long as we wish,' Markus reminded us. 'Father, it's been just a week since he died. If you want more time to mourn...'

'No,' my uncle silenced him. 'I'll do something I've never done before.'

'What's that?' I asked him.

'Follow my wife's advice,' he deadpanned. 'We have to move on with all the burdens we suffer no matter what they are. The best we can do is enjoy what life we have left.'

'Do you miss her?' asked Rickard. 'Mother?' he clarified.

'Of course. She's with God now, like Daniel and like my father. She'll be glad to properly meet the man that helped arrange her marriage to me.'

'Did you make any arrangements for us?' I asked him.

'Yes,' he told us. 'Markus, do you remember Helen Barker?'

'I was arranged to her?' he asked with surprise.

'Yes. I was making a few arrangements for you two, John, Rickaard, but nothing was decided. The Barkers must think we're dead Markus so they'll make new arrangements.'

'Can we move back to what we do next?' I asked them.

'Of course,' my uncle agreed and chewed a piece of ham on his plate. When he swallowed he told us what he thought. Tomorrow we have to meet with my father's lawyer so his Will can be dealt with. We'll start on our way back to Minas Tirith as soon as we can after that.'

'Are you sure father?' asked Markus.

'I'm sure son. I know what I'm doing. There's the Order to deal with and the land I was given. There's a lot of work to do.'

'Then we should rest while we can,' said Rickard.

...

The following midday we met with my uncle's lawyer. He was an older Dwarf with a long gray beard and thick hair of head. We met in the apartments my uncle now owned with the lawyer, named Komrin. There was also all the surviving members of Thorin Oakenshields company as well as three men from Dale and a Dwarf I hadn't seen before.

'Welcome,' Komrin said to us and picked up a scroll of parchment. 'I have here the final Will and Testament of Bartholomew Justin Harris written just over a week before his death. Gathered here are all of the beneficiaries named in his Will.'

He then opened the scroll and began to read it out.

'I, Bartholomew Harris, in sound mind and body, hereby leave this belongings to my closest friends. To Nathaniel Billings, Alistair Sengret and Lucas Dookan, I leave two hundred gold pieces each. I give this to them for years of friendship and loyalty. Also to Nathaniel Billings, I leave a bottle of my best wine to remind him of how we met and why he should always mind his drink.'

One of the men, who was extremely old but younger than my grandfather was when he died, laughed at some memory from long ago.

'I leave my books, scrolls and writings on history and ancient lore to the Erebor Hall of Records so that they may be preserved for all time and so future generations may study and learn from my research.'

The Dwarf I didn't know looked around us at all the books and scrolls and realised that he had a lot of work to do.

'To all of those who are still alive and I journeyed with on the Quest for Erebor I leave two hundred and fifty gold pieces to each of them. My remaining property, such as my furniture, rooms, money and collection of trinkets, as well as my memorandum on the Quest for Erebor, are to be given to my only surviving son, James Harris. James, I trust these with you alone and I know that you will do what is right with them.'

'That is the Will,' Komrin finished as he put down the scroll and looked at each of us.

'Thank you,' my uncle said to the lawyer. 'I will be returning to Gondor in the next few days and I cannot take all of it with me. I would like to keep the furniture here if I should ever want to return. We'll deal with transporting my money another time.'

...

We learned soon after that how wealthy my grandfather was. In his bedroom, behind a tapestry of the Battle of the Five Armies was a stone vault where he kept his money. It was stacked high with gold and silver coins as well as a few precious stones. All gathered from years of hard work in Erebor. After the money in the Will had been given to the others my uncle realized that he couldn't take the rest with him, there was too much. Instead, he decided to take only one small chest with him and send for the rest at a later time. We'd need at least one large cart to transport it all but my uncle trusted his father's friends to mind it for a while.

...

We left Erebor four days after the Will had been read out. A small group had seen us off. The four of us, on our horses, rode out of Erebor with enough supplies to last us a while. I enjoyed my time in Erebor but I looked forward to returning to Minas Tirith and the rest of the company. I was also looking forward to getting letters from Sunniva again. I hadn't told anyone but I brought the letters with me and I looked through them now and again in private.

When we reached the road that would take us home, with Dale and Erebor not far away behind us, we stopped. My uncle turned to look back at the place his father had called home for decades.

'Do you think he ever expected to see me?' he asked us.

'I think he held on to hope to the end,' I told him.

'I hope you're right,' he said and smiled a little.

I looked at his saddle and saw the chest strapped to it. In that was enough money to buy us supplies when we came across towns and still plenty left after that.

'Robert will be glad to see us,' said Markus. 'We'll return to Minas Tirith as great men.'

'We already were,' said Rickard. 'Or I was anyway.'

'Come,' said my uncle as he turned his horse south away from Erebor. 'This is a new world for us. I think it's about time we started to truly live in it. Let's go.'

With that we started our long journey back to Minas Tirith. Ahead of us was the future and many tales and battles. That was all in the future but I knew at that moment that I was no longer a stranger in Middle Earth.

Here is a good place to end my tale. Many of you wonder what of all the parts that are not yet complete. Those are for another day and they shall be recorded as well if you wish to hear them.

The End

(Play Into the West)

 **AN: Well that's the end of that. I hope you enjoyed and I have a few announcements to make here.**

 **Firstly, the future of this series. I am setting up a pole on my page where you can vote on the two possible ideas for a sequel. The first option is a direct sequel taking place after the Harris family arrive back in Gondor. The second is a prequel following the adventure of Bartholomew Harris. I will write both but whichever one wins the vote is the one I will give the most attention too.**

 **Now, I wish to thank everyone who has read, followed and favourite this story. I am truly honoured that you have chosen to read this story and I hope you have enjoyed it.**

 **Also, and I know I sound like a stuck record here, if anyone can send me a cover image for this story that would be very appreciated.**

 **Please leave a final review if you wish and remember to check out the poll for the future of this series.**

 **In particular I wish to thank:**

 **KiyaNamiel, my number one reviewer, I thank you for showing so much support for this story for the past five months. Thank you for your helpful and supportive reviews.**

 **ATP for reminding me how important Slice of Life Chapters are and for many good reviews.**

 **Halloween Servant for having a cool name.**

 **Star-of-Radiance for some very good reviews.**

 **Amateur Bacon Cook, for leaving a good review which is both helpful and supportive.**


End file.
